Adventures in Parenthood
by Shadowdib
Summary: Irkens are weird. Dib finds out just how weird the hard way, and has to keep Zim from hurting himself or the smeet in his guts for a very long four months. Too bad it's Zim. Mpreg. Cover by Definitely-not-an-alien on tumblr.
1. Finding Out

Zim had his head in Dib's lap. Not an irregular occurrence, but the words coming out of his mouth sure as hell were.

"There's some kind of parasite in my guts, but the computer said it was part human and tossed confetti on me? My smeet-parts are defunct as ever, so clearly the computer needs another-"

Dib nearly spit out his soda. "Smeet-parts?"

Zim blinked up at him, left antennae twitching. "Eh, didn't you find out on one of your x-rams that one time?"

"X-rays, and they're shit with tissue most of the time- you've got a womb?"

"Yes?" Zim seemed confused. "So? It's just part of the spooch like everything else, why does this matter? I didn't bug you about your kidney's beans."

"Zim, were you going to tell me this before or after we…?" Dib's cheeks flushed, and Zim stared at him before bursting into laughter.

"Oh, you think I'm- no, all irkens are created sterile! Even if we ever did do that , it's a mershpellid's chance on Blorch before there was a chance of-"

**"Master, I've been trying to tell you for two days, you're definitely pregnant." **The base computer's voice practically vibrated the walls, voice thick with irritation.

"Computer, stop trying to make jokes, they're terrible!" Zim called at it, even as Dib's face went white.

"Preg- how the fuck ? We've never gotten further than third base!" Sure, he'd known what Zim looked like naked now, but he'd just figured all irkens looked like that. It's not like he'd stripped Tak down when he was eleven, and he'd never seen any other irkens in in the flesh before. "You're not cheating on me, are you?"

**"Who else would put up with him?" **The computer chimed in. **"No one's been here besides you two, Gir, and Minimoose. And your sister once, to threaten Zim if he hurt you in any particularly permanent ways."**

"That was nice of her." Dib said numbly, still staring down at Zim.

"What, you actually believe the computer? It's been watching sitcoms with Gir FAR TOO OFTEN! It just wants drama." Zim glared at a random spot in the ceiling. "Zim would never fall prey to such primitive things as breeding."

"Zim…" Dib set a hand on Zim's waist moment before it was violently smacked off.

"I thought you were smart enough to believe me by now, Dib-fuzz!"

Dib quirked an eyebrow. "First, wow, that's the worst one yet. Second, seven years of knowing you say it's smarter to not believe you, and no amount of tonsil hockey will convince me otherwise. And third, your computer has never had a sense of humor that would drag out a joke for two days. Are you positive you're sterile?"

Zim blew his lips in a raspberry. "Pffft, of course. All Paks secrete hormones to keep it that way- can you imagine if the soldiers started mating willy-nilly with everything that had orifices to stick it in? Irkens are superior because the strongest of the genes are mixed together in variations programmed by the Control Brains themselves to keep us the best of the best!"

"Computer?" Dib looked up. "Anything else you've got to explain this?"

**"Zim's messed with his Pak so much it probably disrupted those repression chemicals. He must have somehow taken in enough genetic material from you for his body to start working into assimilating it the old-fashioned way- mixing it in with the baby-maker."** If the computer had a face, Dib was sure it would have smirked. **"He ****does ****like biting, doesn't he?"**

"Bah, that's nonsense."

"Zim, if that's what happened, this is a big deal." Dib tried to ignore the biting comment- it wasn't his fault that the computer was in every room in the base. "Babies are a big responsibility."

"Even if this was true, which it's not, irkens are perfectly self-sufficient moments after birth. They would need no responsibility from Zim." Zim bragged.

**"That's only with Paks." **The computer said flatly. **"Human babies are absolutely useless, but so are smeets for the first few years. That's why they started smeeteries, to speed everything up."**

"Well, any child of mine would be better than that, that's pathetic." Zim scoffed, before his brain caught up with his mouth. He slowly looked down at his chest. "Pak. Repeat the scan from earlier."

Dib watched as Zim's eyes clouded over, information darting across them and presumably directly into Zim's mind. He counted three beats before Zim practically ruptured his eardrums with a blood-curdling scream and dug his claws directly into Dib's arms.

"I'm what? "

* * *

A/N: So, Computer explained it a bit, but it's a one-two punch of Zim's futzing with his Pak messing up the sterilization hormones and Zim being given a body with a womb. I figure that's something that happens once in a while, Paks bond to 'wrong' bodies, but it's easy to just have the hormones adjusted. It's an accident on the part of the Smeetery, and it's in the meat-body, not the Pak. Besides there are few 'gender' differences between irkens, (mostly on the inside, lay two on a table and you'd never be able to tell the difference) so it's not even really considered part of Zim's 'defect'. This'll be mostly comedy, I think, with a dose of show-toned humor.

This was a lot of fun to write, and I'd really appreciate feedback!


	2. Pacing and Possibilities

Zim dragged himself up by tugging at Dib's arms in one fluid motion, before gripping the collar of his shirt in an iron first and staring down at him, feet planted firmly on top of Dib's thighs.

"You! You did this!"

"It sounds like you did it to yourself," Dib said, shoving Zim off him on instinct, but that just tightened the irken's grip, nearly clunking their heads together as Dib was tugged forward by his own force. "I didn't know you could even do that!"

"Your body shouldn't be compatible with mine, then!" Zim pushed Dib back and hopped off his lap, beginning to pace.

"I can't control that, how genetically similar could irkens and humans even be?" Dib watched Zim who was going in circles. By the tenth turn, his boots were practically radiating static electricity.

"This is- this is- argh!"

"How long do we have?" Dib had hugged his knees to his chest- Zim's couch had been too small for him for years, but he'd long since grown used to it. Now, though, it felt like the walls were closing in on them.

**"Smeetery records say that it can take about four Earth-months."** The computer said.

"But if it's half-human, who knows? Babies take nine months." Dib said. "Man, I know there used to be talk of alien hybrids on a lot of forums, but never thought I'd see one that wasn't just painted green or made out of a dented baby doll. Or thought that I'd be a dad to one. Okay, maybe I did a few times, but that was more scientific curiosity, and that was before we started going out-"

"Shut your cake-hole, Zim needs to think!" Zim snapped. He had a finger bent over his mouth, and his Pak was glowing slightly.

"Do you want it?" Dib asked. "If it's only been a few days, if you don't, you can probably-"

"Yes, yes, that's possible." Zim waved a hand. "Computer! How large are human smeets?"

There was a bit of whirring as the computer looked it up. **"Between five and nine pounds."**

Dib hissed in a breath through his teeth- Zim was only about four feet tall and eighty pounds. He'd always kind of wondered about that, honestly- he was skinny but heavier than an average human at that size. "Are irken babies smaller?"

**"They're usually about two pounds. Let's hope it leans irken or Master's going to have one hell of a backache."** The Computer said.

"It will be irken, it's mine." Zim said, scratching idly at his stomach. He finally plopped back down on the couch next to Dib, tugging his uniform shirt up. He looked… exactly the same as he had a week ago. Zim gave his stomach a poke.

"Hmm… I see nothing. Computer!"

**"It's only a few days old. You won't see anything for at least another week." **The computer half-sighed.

"So there's really a kid in there…" Dib leaned forward, trying to detect any kind of curve in Zim's abdomen, but all he saw was smooth skin. Stupid alien healing factor- Dib's own torso was scattered with years of scars, mostly from fights with Zim. Zim, meanwhile, had started staring at him.

"Dib."

"Yeah?" Dib looked up, meeting Zim's eyes.

"You are tall, are you not?"

Dib blinked. "Yeah, I'm six three. You know that."

"So any child of yours would be tall as well, correct?"

"Probably? Gaz is five eight, but I had an aunt that was seven feet, so I figure it runs-"

Zim's face split into a grin, tugging his shirt back down. "And any offspring of mine would have my amazingness!"

Dib scratched at the base of Zim's antenna, right where he knew it felt best. "It'd be as annoying as you, I'm sure," he said affectionately. Zim batted loosely at Dib's wrist, but allowed him to continue his petting.

"Then it's decided!" Zim's antenna twitched. "Your tallness and not-dumbness mean this could be an excellent experiment on the compatibility of humans and irkens without the average disgusting worm-monkey poisoning my results. After seven years on this filthy dirtball, a few months is nothing. I could make an army of slaves with irken greatness and human… human…"

"Tenacity?" Dib suggested, bemused. Five years ago he would have jumped on Zim for a comment like that, but now he knew Zim probably just wanted an excuse. His disgust for anything on or near his body he didn't want… well, if he'd even stopped to consider keeping it, his mind had already been made up. It was almost sweet- to know he liked Dib enough to not want to just rip the thing out and toss it to Gir to destroy.

"Eh, there are no tents in human genes, I've checked for that. Gir is terrible at camping anyhow." Zim said. "Took Computer a week to get all the beans out from the med bay."

"We're doing this." Dib leaned back on the couch, staring up at the ceiling. "Holy shit."

"Hey, I'll be doing most of it!" Zim jumped between Dib's sprawled legs, palms planting on the top of the couch to stare Dib in the face. "And I expect you to be my slave for the time being, it's only fair since it's your rotten blood that did this."

Dib grinned up at him. "Yeah, yeah, I know. I'll help. It's the first alien pregnancy I've seen first-hand, it's research gold. You coming attached is the just the nasty side-effect."

When Zim swiped at his face, he just laughed.


	3. Genetic Diversity

"Okay, so, we've got anywhere between four and nine months for this thing to grow." Dib had crossed his legs, arms settled in the hole between them and palms pressing couch cushion. "Luckily, since we've graduated, we don't have to worry about missing any skool, or anyone getting curious when you start looking fat."

Zim scoffed. "Zim won't-"

"Zim, you're growing something inside your body. You're going to gain some weight." Dib pinched his cheek like he was a cute child, earning himself a hiss and a furious swipe that only ended with Zim's claw getting tangled in Dib's sleeve. It took a good thirty seconds to free it, and Zim mumbled to himself in Irken as he tugged at his glove.

"Fine, fine. What else?" Zim drummed his fingers on his leg.

"The symptoms for humans are… uh…" Dib had to think for a moment. "Nausea after a bit, I think? Mood swings, which I am not looking forward to having to deal with considering how insufferable you can get normally," (a comment that got him a 'hey!' and another shove) "And cravings, which could be interesting considering how you normally react to human food. We'll have to see on that one."

"I see why they moved things to smeeteries." Zim narrowed his eyes. "This seems so inefficient."

"Hey, this way it's however the dice fall instead of programming something into the DNA. You can have surprises. Besides, that didn't always work- they never expected you, did they?"

Zim flashed a toothy smirk at Dib. "Of course not- no one could predict me!"

"See? Some variety is fun. Besides, I'm a direct clone of my dad but we're pretty different." Dib shrugged. "Genetic diversity ensures that some with different adaptations will survive in crisis."

"But only using the best DNA of the most successful ensures that our race will continue to be the best." Zim argued.

"Come on, I thought you loved chaos." Dib nudged him. "It'll still be our kid no matter what. Besides, your body would pick the best stuff to share, right? I dunno if your Pak can actually do that, but if it could, it totally would."

"It will- I accept no less!" Zim hopped off the couch. "I'm getting popcorn. You want that disgusting cheesy mess, no?"

"Yeah, as long as Gir didn't get into it. He slobbers over everything,"Dib called out as Zim started rummaging around in the cabinets. He used his Pak legs to get to the top shelf, pulling out a pair of bags.

Dib pulled his phone out of his pocket, flipping through to the camera. "Alright. Hey, future Dib, welcome back! This is day one of-"

"What are you doing?" Zim dropped the popcorn on Dib's head, staring at the small screen.

"I'm starting a log, so we can keep track of progress." He turned the camera up to show Zim better, and Zim smacked it into Dib's lap, the phone turning off.

"You will not use your record-y thing to show anyone my true form!" Dib grabbed the phone and held it protectively against his chest.

"Relax, I'm not going to show anyone. This is for my personal notes. Besides, if it's like an experiment, you're going to want records, right? Half the city has seen you out of disguise by now anyways."

Zim glared at him, and Dib threw up his arms.

"Okay, go grab your disguise, happy?"

Zim stretched an arm out to the end table, sticking out his tongue a bit as he adjusted his wig and contacts. For the hundredth time, Dib wondered if he ever replaced them- they were the same slightly-translucent white and purple as ever, and you could see the pink underneath if you squinted. Zim gave a thumbs up, and Dib started another video.

"Hey, future Dib, and future Zim if you start bugging me about sharing the footage. This is day… well, it's one for us, but when did the thing actually start growing?" Dib looked up.

**"Three days ago." **The computer said.

"Okay, day three, then." Dib moved the camera to include Zim, who flashed it a bright grin. "So far Zim looks the same as usual. We just found out about half an hour ago. Irken gestation takes about four months and humans take about nine, so we'll see which of us it's more like when we figure out how fast it's growing."

"Which will be me. It's mine, after all, the Dib just started this by having such sweet bloodmeats."

Dib elbowed Zim in the chest. "No, you started this by being such a biter. You're lucky I like wearing coats that cover them up, asshole."

Zim snickered. "You should be honored to be marked by an irken elite."

"And you should be honored that I keep lending you money so you can make rent and buy Gir food, you brat." Dib rolled his eyes. "Anyways, Zim, pull your shirt up a little just so we can have a visual."

Zim stuck out his tongue before doing just that, only showing his lower stomach.

"Note the lack of a bellybutton, and defined hip-bones despite being weirdly muscular-" Zim yanked his shirt back down, jabbing Dib with a pointy elbow, who coughed. "Okay, okay, geez. Anyways, that's all I've got for now, but I'll try to update often with what happens. Dib out."

Zim immediately removed the wig, pulling out the contacts and setting them both back on the end table before grabbing his popcorn.

"If you're done looking at your own dumb face, I wanna watch a movie."

Dib tucked the camera away. "Alright, as long as you don't start clinging to me when you get scared. I've still got the marks from the scary clown one."

"Why would anyone make that?" Zim shuddered. "And invaders do not cling!"

Dib tugged up his sleeve and raised an eyebrow, three small circular marks clearly dug into his skin. Zim laughed nervously. "Eheh… it was to keepyou from being scared! You humans make those movies to frighten yourselves, no?"

Dib grabbed the remote and adjusted his bag of cheesy popcorn on his lap. "Whatever makes you feel better." He flipped through the channels until he found one that looked promising.

It turned out to be horrible, but Zim's commentary made the experience worth it anyways.


	4. Selfies

Dib kicked open the front door- it had been particularly sticky the past month and he had gotten sick of trying to ram it with his shoulder. Gaz was settled on the living room couch, a headset over her ears, but by the time Dib had crossed to the stairs, she had tugged it down.

"Zim do anything funny today?"

Dib's hand hovered over the bottom of the banister, considering. "Ah, it was… boy, it was _something_."

"Some idiot just lost the game for us, so I'm all ears. Zim being an moron's more entertaining than playing with people who have the shooting abilities of a squashed ant anyways." She kept watching the screen, switching through her character skins. Dib waited until she picked Santa- a threatening display now, considering how Santa seemed to get bigger and more aggressive every year, thanks Zim- before answering.

"So, it turns out Zim can get pregnant."

Gaz actually turned her head at that, one eye opening fully.

"He can what?" Her voice was dry, but he'd known her for seventeen years- he could hear the 'I need an explanation now ' layered into the words.

Dib rubbed the back of his neck. "Eheh, yeah, would have been nice to know that _before_, huh-"

"If you're telling me you actually screwed Zim, I'd rather carve my ears out than hear about it, so I'm going to stop you right there."

"I didn't, that's the weird part!" Dib leaned against the banister. "It was from him biting me or something?"

"If Dad asks why you bring a kid around, you're the one explaining." Gaz turned back to her game. "Maybe if they're not a freak you won't have to homeskool them."

Dib stared at the back of her head for a moment. Homeskool. Skool. Skool started at about five. Five years of managing them until they went to skool, and then probably another thirteen at least after that. They'd need to figure out how to feed them, probably a nightmare considering Zim's freakishly long list of allergies, entertain them, educate them… just dealing with them before skool would be only a few years shorter than the amount of time since he'd first _met_ Zim, and _that_ felt like an eternity. And that wasn't even getting into if irkens aged differently from humans, which they probably did. He slumped against the banister.

"Holy shit, what are we getting ourselves into?"

"Something stupid, I'm sure." Gaz had pulled her headset back on, but a glance at the screen showed she wasn't playing again yet. "Look, you're a moron, but you're also probably the smartest person around here besides Dad and I. If anybody can handle this, it's you. Just don't bother me about it unless it turns out Zim has to lay eggs in your stomach or something. I don't want to get infected with alien cooties."

Dib sucked in a deep breath. "Thanks, Gaz."

"If you try to take my trophy room as a nursery, you're dead, got it?" She entered back into the game and Dib figured their conversation was over.

"Got it," he answered anyway, starting up the stairs. Soon enough he heard her yelling at the TV. He continued down the hall to his room and flopped down face-first on the bed. "You're in it deep now, Membrane." He mumbled into the mattress, nebula bedsheets not giving any response. He rolled over, tracing the glowing constellations on his ceiling. He still remembered when he'd painted them- Dad had even helped with a few, trying to push him towards astronomy instead of aliens.

Dad. Well, he'd cross that bridge when he came to it. With any luck, he might not even notice anything was up until the kid was a few months old and Dib had a better excuse. Trying out his own cloning, maybe, that would probably make him happy. He'd always had a weird soft spot for Zim anyways. Dib spent a lot of time with Zim already, a bit more wouldn't be suspicious.

He pulled out his phone, scrolling through the photos. It was filled with rather blurry paranormal creatures, selfies with said paranormal creatures, and then blurrier ones as they realized Dib was trying to take selfies and Dib had hit the camera button on accident when he was running from them.

Scattered throughout were pictures of Zim in his disguise, often after stealing Dib's phone and usually making dumb faces. There was one video of him sticking out his tongue before getting splattered with a gross brown and orangey mush. He yelled at Gir offscreen and ended the recording, and Dib smiled to himself. "Stupid alien." He stood up, crossing the room to his desk to upload the videos he'd made- getting footage of Zim without his disguise was still rare even now, and Zim hadn't bothered to delete the first video he'd made earlier.

It was surprisingly clear, and Zim's antennae twitching when he looked down at the camera was kind of adorable. Over the years, Dib had caught plenty of his little tells, and this one was confused for a moment and then angry in the seconds before the video ended. He took a screenshot to make his desktop background. Seeing both of them looking down at the screen gave the impression that they were staring out of his computer, and he chuckled before loading up the other video, the proper log.

He played it back, then took a screenshot of when Zim had pulled his shirt up, moving it a new folder and titling it 'progression' before leaning back in his chair.

"One day at a time, Dib. One day at a time."


	5. Research

Zim hopped into the trash can elevator. "Computer, take me down to the labs."

The elevator started its descent, and Zim tapped his chin. "This shouldn't be too bad. I'm an elite soldier, some discomfort for a while is manageable, and I'll have a new squishy servant to help around the house. Which is more than anyone else around here does!" He called up. "Except for Minimoose. Minimoose is good."

**"I can stop this elevator right now and you can crawl the rest of the way down."**

"Touchy." Zim rolled his eyes. The elevator slid to a stop and he marched out, hopping into his computer chair and leaning forward slightly to drive it towards the screens. "Alright, pull up all the information you can about smeets and breeding back when this was common."

Hundreds of articles and diagrams popped up. Zim easily sorted out the math-y lists out- no use learning about the birthing rate of Smeetery 213 or other nonsense like that.

"How many irkens in the past… hmm, fifteen eras have reproduced like this?"

**"Insufficient data."**

"Insuf- answer me!" Zim slammed a fist against the console.

**"Look, if that information is out there, I can't get at it," **The computer said. **"It's sure as hell not common. The Control Brains probably keep a lid on it to stop people from doing this. They don't want anybody screwing around willy-nilly and ruining the gene pool."**

Zim ground his teeth. "Fine. Interspecies breeding, then."

The computer whirred. **"There are a few cases, but all of them that were reported died."**

"Clearly they must have been weaklings." Zim scoffed. "Visuals on screen."

**"You sure?"**

"You're questioning me?"

**"Nah, just don't want you throwing stuff at me if you don't like it. ****Again****."** The computer obeyed, and Zim's eyes darted over the largest screen.

"Zoom in on that one with purple eyes." Zim's antenna flicked as he scanned the irken up and down. They looked to be of similar size to him, and he saw a curve in their abdomen. It didn't look much like any fat irkens he knew- usually, the weight was deposited about evenly through mostly the chest, torso, and upper legs, creating a solid base that could absorb shock. This just looked like an open target right to the spooch. "Any more pictures of this one?"

**"That's Elite Flick, they had an accident on a mission and were taken in for experimentation."**

"Experimentation?" Zim's eyes widened. "What happened?"

**"They made it to three months." **Pictures flashed through, a progression as their stomach swelled and their skin paled from a healthy green to a sickly pale mint. In the last few, they were sitting down and it looked like there was a boulder shoved under their uniform. Zim's antennae pressed flat against his head- that looked... wrong.**"There were tests to make sure it wasn't contagious and how it affected them so they wouldn't lose a bunch more people."**

"How big was the smeet?" Zim's tugged at his antennae, disgust and fear seeping through his tone.

**"About twelve pounds. It was at least twice the size yours will be, and it was half some kind of spider-y thing. Humans are structured way more like irkens than that thing was." **

Zim let out a sigh of relief. "Height?"

**"About two units taller than you."**

"There's nothing to worry over, then! Not that I was worried." Zim cheered up immediately. "How did they find out about it anyhow?"

**"It was only a reconnaissance mission, they were with a team once they came back."**

"Well, I've contacted the Tallests with disguises on before, I'll just have to wear something poofy and they'll never know. And if this goes well, it could create some resilient slaves." He grinned. "Side effects from any of those making hybrids?"

More whirring from the computer. **"Nausea, temperature and mood fluctuation, energy loss, and cravings, as well as some minor Pak malfunctions. It looks similar to what general pregnancy was, just more intense."**

"Hmm… so pretty much what the Dib said." Zim leaned back, feeling the floating chair bob slightly. He prodded at his midsection. "If you cause too much trouble, you're going home with him, you know."

Surprisingly, the smeet said nothing, but Zim supposed he didn't really expect it to. For now, he had research to do.


	6. Wake-up call

A/N: Some very minor spoilers for Florpus/the first few comics in here. This fic will include Florpus as 'canon'.

* * *

Dib groaned as his alarm blared directly in his ear, fumbling around for a few moments before slamming the button down and stopping it from assaulting his poor ears. He yawned, stretching.

"Okay, it's Saturday, isn't it? He grabbed his glasses, adjusting them for a moment before grabbing his phone to check. "Right, I'm off." He groaned- Dad had him scheduled for a nine-hour shift tomorrow. At least he'd gotten most of the work done on the robot he'd been assigned, he probably wouldn't need to be there the whole time. It wasn't that he didn't appreciate the challenge, or getting to talk with Dad for more than fifteen seconds a day, it was just that Zim always left about twenty messages-

Zim. He nearly fell out of bed.

"Man, was yesterday a dream, or-" The phone in his hand started vibrating, with a picture of Zim sticking his tongue out popping up on-screen. He fumbled, almost dropping it before managing to hit 'call' and press it to his ear. "Zim?"

"Where are you, Dib-worm?"

"It's only nine, I just wake up." He yawned. "So, did I hallucinate yesterday?"

"How would I know? You were here, we learned of the smeet, and found out the sandal-man makes terrible jokes."

"Okay, I wasn't dreaming. Good to know." Dib rubbed his eyes, getting a smudge on the glass when he brushed it with one of his knuckles. "You're freakishly calm about this."

"It's merely another experiment, why wouldn't be?" Zim sounded dismissive, and Dib's fingers tightened around the phone.

"Zim, it's not just an experiment, this is serious. This is a real commitment of eighteen years- or more!"

"Pssh, is that all?"

Dib raised an eyebrow. "Is that- what, isn't eighteen a lot to your species?"

"Of course not!"

"In earth years, that's more than twice the amount of time you've been here. It's how old I am."

"...Oh."

"This is insane. I knocked up an alien who forgot how to count." Dib raked a hand through his bedhead, feeling his hair start to spike up like usual.

"It's not my fault earth-years last so long," Zim said.

"The kid isn't going to be an, er, smeet for like twenty years, are they? I don't want to change diapers for that long."

"I was a smeet for about thirty."

Dib sputtered. "What?"

"What? You were a smeet too until... what was it? Months ago."

"Seven months. Okay, so smeets are just kids in general, and irkens have weird years. Got it. That better not mean they're gonna be a little kid for that long." Dib took in a slow breath before letting it out.

"Now, if you're done fussing over numbers get over here, we need to make plans. Such plans!"

"Right, right. I'll be over in twenty minutes. But this is not the end of that conversation." Dib ended the call, tugging on a pair of pants and heading to the kitchen by sliding down the banister.

Just over forty minutes later, (after a fight with a very disgruntled sewer alligator that had ended up in the toilet somehow) Dib waltzed past the gnomes and into Zim's front door.

"You're late."

"Yeah, tell that to the reptile that's currently becoming Gaz's purse." Dib slumped down on the couch. "So, what's the news?"

"Interspecies breeding within the empire is… uncommon," Zim admitted. "With irkens, of course- there are far more records of smelly captive species engaging in it."

"Well, could it be that it's just being covered up?" Dib raised an eyebrow. "There's some kind of supercomputer connected to all the Paks, right? Seems like it would be easy to just wipe that kind of thing out if they don't want anyone trying it out."

Zim waved a hand. "There are military exceptions, and Zim is one of them. Memory banks can't be tampered with without a trial, or by the irken themselves."

Dib opened his mouth to ask about the trial Zim had had, but then realized it wasn't worth the thirty-second dead stare. He was preeeeetty sure Zim had scrubbed at his own memory at some point, because he always got fuzzy when it was brought up. The only reason Dib even knew about it was Gir (and Minimoose), who probably only knew because of Zim griping about it. "Okay, so let's assume it's true. Is there any way to monitor yourself to see if something's going wrong?"

"I have a medical bay," Zim said. "You are not bringing me into any human medical establishment."

"No, your base is probably better anyways. It would know what counts as healthy is for you," Dib said. "Anyways, can I see any of those records?"

They appeared on the TV screen, and Dib scanned over them with wide eyes. He was still working on his fluency in irken, but the charts and images spoke for themselves.

"Huh. So it's pretty similar to earth pregnancy, it looks like. Is it live birth?"

"A few of the crossbreeds had eggs, but if humans have squirmy goo-monsters live, then yes," Zim said. "You're bringing me chocolate before that, you hear me? Buckets worth. The sugar rush will cancel it out."

Dib nodded. "Yeah, sure. Earth was a newly-discovered planet, right? So you're the guinea pig here."

"Zim is no pig!"

"It's a figure of speech- it means the test subject." Dib said, watching as the screen scrolled through more diagrams. He winced. "Wow, that looks painful."

"Eh, I've seen worse." Zim waved a hand to the side, and the reports started moving faster. "Invader training is impossibly hard, you know."

"I'm sure," Dib said. "I've got to be in the labs tomorrow, so we should get the plan on how to deal with this out of the way."

Zim whipped a digital notepad out of his pad and started chewing on the back of an alien-looking pen. It was bulky and bright pink with a little armada symbol on the end.

"Computer, bring up a timescale!"

**"Geez, is it too much to ask for a please now and then?"**

"Please," Dib said.

**"Bringing up timescale now. How come the human is the only one that appreciates me?"** The papers disappeared, replaced with a timeline. Dib stood up to get a better look.

"If there haven't been any irken/human hybrids before, this is probably an estimate, right?"

**"Eh, it's a couple of the examples mixed together, take it how you will."**

"Well, it's better than nothing." Dib's eyes roamed over it. "This is using the four month baseline, so we should start seeing something within a week or two?"

Zim hopped off the couch, scribbling something down. "Ugh, this is going to take too long."

"Zim, you once spent a year sitting in a toilet." Dib said. "A couple months is nothing compared to that."

"It was for a good reason!" Zim put his hands on his hips, and Dib rolled his eyes.

"Honestly, if you'd spent that time actually coming up with a plan earth probably would be yours by now."

"...Shut your face!"

"Anyways." Dib looked up at the computer. "Is there anything about… er, mates?"

**"Not really," **The computer replied. **"Only in the reeeally old stuff, and then it's just about taking care of the one that's having the baby."**

Dib let out a sigh of relief. "Okay, good. That's good."

**"By the last few weeks he's gonna need you, though."**

"I will need no one." Zim made a 'pfft' sound, dismissing the idea with a buzz of his lips.

**"Says here pretty much all attention goes to the smeet so the one carrying them needs to be brought food and stuff."**

"Oh, yeah, that's not too much of a problem. Besides, he's got Gir and Minimoose, right?" Not that Gir was going to be much help, but the little robot could be surprisingly attentive when he wanted to be.

"Exactly, I'm much better off than those other losers!" Zim said. "I have the finest technology in the galaxy!"

"Does GIR know yet?" Dib asked.

Zim shrugged. "Feh, he's been interrogating the chicken-cow experiments for the past few days, I'll tell him when he gets back. He'll be fine, he likes babies, anyway. They're chewy."

"You know what, I'm not even going to touch that." Dib said. "I still have to work, but I'll be here when I can."

"Come onnnnnnnn," Zim whined.

"I'll see if I can bring work home when it gets later," Dib said. "Dad did that a lot when we were really little."

"Hmmph, it's better than nothing, I suppose."

Dib tweaked one of Zim's antenna, getting a hiss. "We'll get through this together. I call naming rights."

"Whatever name you come up with will be stupid." Zim muttered.

"So will yours," Dib countered. "But we've got four months to argue about it, we'll deal with that later."

**"Gir has about fifty dolls stuffed into the vents, and he's named all of them. He'd probably love the chance to name it,"** The computer said, but Zim and Dib glared at the TV screen in unison and didn't dignify that with a response.


	7. Spaghetti and Brotherhood

A/N: If anybody is just jumping to the latest chapter, I actually just put up all three of the ones I hadn't crossposted from ao3, so the new updates from today started on chapter 5.

* * *

Dib was making spaghetti when Gir emerged from the toilet, dog suit on but the hood dangling behind his neck like a hoodie.

"Hi, spiky! Making brains?"

Dib held up the bowl. "Nope, spaghetti." Pasta with no sauce was one of the few things Zim could choke down that wasn't snack food or waffles, so Dib had gotten used to it. He'd tried irken snacks a few times, and every one had it taken a week for his taste buds to recover. (Except for the one that was basically fun dip, but Zim refused to share it with anyone but Gir, so it was off the table anyways.)

"Oooh, smells wheaty!" Gir crawled up Dib like he was a tree, settling on his shoulder. "Whazzit for?"

"Zim and I. He's down in the lab right now. He's been looking for you, actually."

Gir grabbed the spoon out of Dib's hands, sticking the bottom in his mouth like a lollipop. "Aww, Master missed me? That's so sweet!"

"He has something to tell you- hey!"

Gir had grabbed Dib by the hair-spike and leaped off his shoulder, dragging him down towards the trash entrance to the lab. He groaned as the spaghetti splattered against the floor. "Aw man, I was almost done too…"

"Gonna get some newsies, hope that it's a doozies, Master's made of chocolate and Dib's too tall," Gir sang to himself, and Dib managed to open the trash can lid with his food before Gir pulled him in.

"I still don't get how you're that strong," Dib said, landing on his back and pushing himself back up. At least the elevator got a lot bigger once you got through the entrance, but being over six feet made it a squeeze to get to that point.

"I'm fulla protein!" Gir exclaimed, proudly sticking his chest out and making the zipper bounce against the fabric. "Peanut butter and all!"

Dib flicked his antenna. "I'm sure you are." He was pretty sure he smelled something nutty coming from Gir's head, so for all he knew the little robot was telling the truth.

Gir flopped down on his belly. "You got any fruit?"

"I'm not a tree." Dib said, lifting Gir up like he was a child, resting him against his chest with his arm under Gir's butt. His disguise had some sort of sticky gross substance coating it, but it usually made him happy to be played with, and a happy Gir was much more tolerable than a screaming one. Dib's ears still hurt sometimes from the four-hour screaming marathon after an Angry Monkey rerun had been canceled for a special news bulletin three months ago. Gir giggled, batting at Dib's coat collar.

"Says you."

"Yeah, says me." He bounced Gir a little, who patted at his cheeks.

"I like your face."

"Thanks." The elevator slowed to a stop, and Zim spun around in his chair.

"Gir, there you are!"

"Hiya!" Gir did a somersault out of Dib's arms, running over to Zim before landing directly in his lap. "The cows're big gossips. Said the bacon is all tied up and the chicken legs are overcooked."

"So they've achieved speech? That's ahead of schedule!" Zim grinned. "Good work, Gir!"

Gir beamed at the praise. "And Dibby said you had something you wanted to saaaaaay? Am I getting a promotion to head cheese?"

"Oh, did he?" Zim glanced up, and Dib shrugged, leaning against the wall.

"Hey, he's your robot, you tell him."

Zim cleared his throat. "Gir, you know what smeets are, no?"

Gir stuck his tongue out as he thought. "Hmmm…. babies but made of green beans?"

"Yes, they're irken babies." Zim said. "I've begun with the process of making one."

Gir's eyes glowed brighter than usual. "You're buildin' a baby?"

"I suppose you could put it that-"

"Where?"

"Right here, in my-"

"Where?"

"It's just in my-"

"Where is it?"

Zim waited for a moment to see if Gir was going to ask again before patting at his side. "It's going to be growing in my lower spooch."

Gir squeezed Zim's hips, hard. "Hiya! I'm your biiiiiig brother!"

Zim tried to push him off. "Gir, it won't be related to you, only to-"

"Of course it'll be your brother." Dib cut in, seeing the building tears in the robot's eyes before Zim did and wanting to cut off a tantrum before it started. "But you've gotta be careful with it, okay? It's not going to be as tough as Zim is."

Gir nodded, eyes flashing red for a moment. "Understood!" He went back to normal, nuzzling his cheek against Zim's chest. "We're a big happy family, like those ones on tv where they all yell at each other but hug it out after twen'y minutes!"

Dib chuckled. "Yeah. That's definitely us."

* * *

A/N: I actually made art for this one! shadowofthelamp dot tumblr dot com / post / 187244254526 / i-never-actually-decided-on-an-older-dib-design

Just replace the dots with . and delete the spaces.


	8. Sugar

A week passed with no real difference, then another three days. Dib visited once a day, but Zim just seemed about normal- still doing experiments, but mostly to just be doing them or learning about 'earthen creature' biological functions. Sometimes he went back to causing petty problems, stuff that the people around him had long since grown used to like stealing lawn ornaments and swapping toes with fingers. Dib knew by now that a bored Zim was far worse than one that had something that ranked about a 1 on the 'evil' scale to do, so he mostly just let Zim do what he wanted as long as it didn't actually hurt anyone. Zim counted it as a victory for 'converting' Dib. Dib counted it as getting his free time back that wasn't spent huddled in the bushes across the street.

He wasn't sure when Zim had stopped trying to really conquer the Earth. He'd tried to figure it out- the revelation years ago the Tallests weren't coming had genuinely hurt Zim, even though he hid it so deep Dib was pretty sure even Zim didn't realize. His habit of deleting unpleasant memories combined with the fact that he'd simply moved to proving that Earth WAS worth conquering and that he'd do it for them meant that he'd continued for a long time after with his efforts, but after seven years, his schemes had fallen in number and scale. Dib didn't really have a lot to do that didn't revolve around Zim, so as the fights had slowed, they'd begun to start hanging out without them. Usually with an excuse, often studying 'the enemy', but that had broken one night when Dib had been up for almost forty hours and had kissed Zim on the forehead.

Zim had nearly broken his arm until he explained in stumbling speech what that meant, and Zim said 'he'd keep him around for now', for entertainment and to revel in how far his rival had fallen. Really, Dib knew from several years of stalking Zim was just bored and didn't mind his company by now.

Besides, the older Dib got and the more time he spent at Dad's labs, the more Zim's experiments interested him, especially the animal ones. Zim was surprisingly eager to share once he knew Dib wasn't going to try and stop most of them- having someone enthusiastic about his work besides himself seemed to be a new experience for him, Maybe Dib would move into biology when he was done in the robot sector. Dad pretty much had all types of science covered at the labs- besides paranormal, frustratingly. Dib was trying to work on it, though, since Dad tended to listen to him more now that he'd seen Dib's results in 'real sciences'.

Besides, he was still a card-carrying SEN agent, it wasn't like he'd dropped the idea of being a paranormal investigator. If there was an opening on the board, he'd take it in a heartbeat. Hopefully they wouldn't hold 'dating the alien he spent years trying to destroy' against him. No one knew besides Tunaghost anyways, and he'd like to keep it that way. (Tunaghost was herself dating a werewolf and had admitted it to him first, thank you very much, he hasn't just blurted it out and now they had blackmail on each other like reasonable people)

Dib rapped his knuckles on the door. "Hey, I brought that bag of sugar you were bugging me for, thanks for the messages at 3 am. And it's heavy. Like, really heavy. Open the damn door."

It was Minimoose that opened the door, and Dib gave him a polite nod, getting a squeak in reply.

"He's down in the labs?"

"Nyah!"

"Third one on the left, got it." Dib said, shifting the bag and walking over to the end table. "Computer, can I use this one?"

**"Magic word?"**

Dib sighed internally- ever since he'd started being polite with it, the computer demanded he use please and thank you. "Please?"

**"No problem!" **At least it still listened to him. The table folded up, opening the elevator. Dib stepped in, shifting the sugar again. He should have brought a backpack…

Luckily the elevators were fast. He practically waddled towards the right room, finding Zim wearing goggles and trying to weld two different types of purple glass-looking material together. He turned when Dib entered.

"Did you bring it?"

"Mhm, and it's like fifteen pounds and I brought it all the way from the store, so mind telling me what it's for?"

"I wanted sugar." Zim pulled the goggles up, grabbing a cup.

"What, for an experiment? Is this the gummy bears again?"

Zim tore open the bag, pulling a cup out of his Pak and scooping it into the granules spilling out. Dib stared as he filled it up nearly to the top before dumping it directly into his mouth.

"Oh. Okay, not the gummy bears again then. Got it."

Zim's tongue snaked out to catch any of the sugar he missed. "Excellent, none of that nasty paper-y pulpy mixed in."

"When were you eating sugar with paper in it?"

"Gir is a terrible cook on everything but breakfast and desserts." Zim said dismissively. "And you got one for the whole week!"

"The whole- Zim, that thing is like twenty percent of your body weight, there's no way you can use it up in a week!"

"You underestimate me." Zim grinned. "Sugar like this is a rare delicacy. I've made quite a lot of monies selling some on the black market, actually. You worms don't realize how good you have it, with sweets growing all over. How something so beautiful can bloom on such a dirt pile is a mystery to me."

"If you can get it, why didn't you?" Dib crosses his arms.

"I was working on something, and you were coming over anyways," Zim said. "What are you for, if it isn't getting me things?"

"Oh, be quiet, you insect." Dib grumbled, crouching down to inspect what Zim was doing. "What's this for?"

"It's holding the weasels with piranha teeth. I don't know if they'll swim or not yet, so it has to work for both water and air." Zim tapped it. "Gir got at the last one. Took me an hour to buff out the metal of his skull. That robot, I swear…"

"Zim, how long ago was that?"

Zim looked up at him. "A few days ago."

"You know you can't do the really dangerous experiments while you're pregnant, right?"

Zim waved a hand. "It's fiiiiiiine, I only got nipped a little. You're underestimating me!"

"No, I'm saying you get hurt a lot, and I really don't want you doing something stupid. Well, more stupid than usual."

Zim shoved at him. " You're more stupid!"

"Look, I'll help you with anything that's really bites or is poisonous, okay?"

Zim grinned. "You're offering your services to me?"

"Conditionally- I can still say no, you know."

"That's a yes!" Zim practically sang. He reached up for a tool, and revealed a small sliver of green skin at the bottom of his shirt as he did.

"Hey, is that-?" Dib dropped his hand to Zim's midsection, making the irken recoil.

"Don't touch me when I can't see it!"

"Look, doesn't your uniform seem a little tighter?" Dib pointed instead, and Zim stared down. He blinked once before running his own hand over it.

"Not really? But there is something . Your eyes aren't as terrible as I thought."

"Okay, I'm making another log."

"I don't have my disguise!"

"You can use those goggles," Dib said, looking around. "Oh, or this is better." He grabbed a welding mask, which Zim slipped on before Dib pulled out his phone, flicking to the video and starting a recording.

"Log two. Okay, it's been… yeah, exactly ten days now since we first heard about the kid. I think Zim is starting to show, and judging by the fact he thinks he can polish off a fifteen pound bag of sugar, he's probably got cravings too. Zim, pull up your shirt." Dib shifted the camera to Zim, who rolled up the pink fabric. It was small- if Dib hasn't spent years studying Zim, who changed rarely, he probably would have never noticed it- but there was a bit of a curve to his stomach. "I'm going to touch it, okay?"

Zim huffed. "If you insist." Still, Dib could hear in his tone he appreciated being asked after the incident a minute before. Dib wiped suddenly sweaty fingers off on his shirt before brushing them over Zim's skin.

"It's still small enough I can't feel much of a difference, except right here on the edge." Dib shifted the camera again to show where Zim's hips met his stomach. "Looks like junior's got quite a while to go yet."

"Junior better not tear my uniform." Zim grumbled.

"You can always borrow something from me, you know."

"I'd rather spend a night with a slaughtering rat person!" Zim made a clicking noise with his mouth Dib was pretty sure was supposed to be condescending.

"Harsh. Zim, anything to say for the log?"

Zim tugged his shirt down. "If this is just wanting foods I like anyways, it'll be a… a… breezy day!"

"I'm pretty sure it gets worse after this." Dib said, getting a groan from Zim that would probably sound awful on the recording. "Anyways, that's all for now. End of day ten, Dib out."

Zim used his Pak legs to stretch up to a taller shelf, grabbing something alien Dib didn't recognize. "What's that?"

"A blowtorch, duh. Hand me the glass wall and take cover, I need to melt the middle and last time there was shrapnel."

Dib groaned. Teaching Zim to not be in danger was going to be like getting Gir to shut up for a full day.

He wondered if this was how Sisyphus felt.


	9. Changes

A/N: Warnings for vomit and... idk how to warn for this, short stuffing scene I guess? Zim eats too much sugar bc of cravings. Neither are described too much.

* * *

Fourteen days after first finding out, Zim started to feel a bit queasy.

"Ugh… what are you eating?" He could hear Gir crunching on something while his back was turned.

"Nooothing."

"It must be something!" Zim turned up from fiddling with a video game to look at the robot. He was laid out almost flat on the couch, a hand buried a bag of popcorn. "Gir, you're eating popcorn."

"Oh, yeah, I am. Want some?" Gir stuffed a handful in his mouth, butter dripping down his chin.

Zim swore his spooch actually bubbled at that. "No, Gir."

"Aw, you look like you need some buttery goodness." Gir tossed a handful at Zim, who pulled out a laser from his Pak on instinct to turn them all to ash before they hit him. "Geez, just sayin'…"

"You've had popcorn before and it never bothered me, though…" Zim started to pace, heat starting to drip from his chest and congealing in the lower torso like a ball of hot lead. He set a hand on top of it, but he couldn't feel anything different from the outside besides the small curve.

"Maybe you don't like movies. Awful." Gir shook his head sympathetically.

"No, that's not it."

**"Nausea was one of the symptoms," **The computer said. **"It's probably-"**

"I've got it, this is from the smeet! They're probably wiggling around and getting all tangled up in there," Zim declared.

**"I don't think it's big enough to do that yet."**

"It's got Dib's tallness genes, if it isn't now it will be soon eno- oh, irk." Zim's eyes went wide and the hand against his abdomen tightened against his shirt. "Someone get me the bucket!"

"Okie dokie!" Gir slid off the couch, hurrying over to the kitchen, and Zim's free hand cupped over his mouth. Gir barely made it back in time for Zim to collapse to his knees and lose the pancakes he'd had for breakfast. It came out thick and hurt his throat. Zim hacked into the bucket for a good ten seconds after most of it had evacuated his innards, and the smell would have made him throw up again if he'd had anything left inside of him. There were chunks that kind of looked like they could have been part of his spooch.

"Computer…"

**"Yes?"**

"Get rid of the bucket."

**"Yeah, okay." **

Zim slumped forward against the couch, forehead pressing against the cushions. It felt cool.

That was how Dib found him, an indeterminate amount of time later. It was long enough for Gir to flounce out of the house at some point and leave Zim alone. Dib dumped his backpack on the couch next to the pile of alien.

"How long have you been slumped over like that? Isn't that uncomfortable? Well, maybe your spine is different from mine, but-"

"It made me sick." Zim hadn't lifted his head, or even turned to look at Dib.

"Oh, okay, so morning sickness is still going to be a thing. Sorry about that."

"It's not morning, though."

"I don't know why they call it that either, to be honest, but it's just that throwing up becomes common for the first third or so."

"It was awful and I hated it." Zim turned now.

"Can I get you something, maybe? I don't know if you have medicine anywhere, but-"

"It made me sick." Zim repeated. "It controlled my body."

"It doesn't do anything on purpose, it can't think yet." Dib rubbed the top of Zim's back, stopping short of touching the Pak. Zim relaxed a little, but not much.

"It's going to do that again, isn't it?"

"Probably." Dib admitted. "At least it won't be for long. Besides, it can't be any worse than the thing with the bacon last year, right?"

"If you bring that incident up again, next time I'll vomit right on your big dookie-filled head."

"Geez, touchy," Dib said. "But really, want me to get you something?"

"Something minty."

"I saw some stale candy canes in the back of the cabinet a week ago."

"Good enough for now." Zim made grabby hands, and Dib crossed the living room in a scant few strides before rummaging around in the cabinet. "Ugh, there's a dead mouse in here."

"Get it out of there!" Zim screeched.

"I will, let me just- ah!" Dib held up a pair of candy canes up like they were trophies before tossing them at Zim. The alien pulled a net out of his Pak to catch them before ripping the wrapper off one. Dib picked up the mouse distastefully, chucking it into the real trash hidden under the sink. Gir might eat it later, if he found it, but ah well.

Zim was sucking on the end of the candy cane, the crook looped around his fingers as a convenient handle.

"So, you just got sick?"

"That's what I said, yes." Zim raised an eye. "Didn't you hear me?"

"I heard you, but that's the first real symptom besides the cravings," Dib said.

"Those weren't cravings, I was merely, eh, hungry after a long day!"

"Computer, can you play back two days ago in the lab, at about 6 pm, please?"

**"Sure, whatever." **

The screen switched on, and there was a very Zim-ish groan before it panned down. Zim was laying on his side, curled around his stomach.

"Okay, what did we learn about eating three pounds of sugar?"

"To do it slower…" Screen-Zim groaned.

"Do it sl- to not do it at **all **, Zim!" Screen-Dib was exasperated. "You're just going to make yourself sick!"

"Feels so good, though, stop talking, Dib-thing…"

"Geez, you haven't used that one in a while. Let me see the damage." Dib tried to lift Zim's arm but got his hand slapped away. The pattern repeated twice before Zim relented, allowing Dib access. His skin looked strange in the purple light, especially settled against Zim's green stomach that looked like he'd swallowed… well, three solid pounds of sugar. "Oh, wow, it is **tight **in there. Computer, take a picture of this please, I want to compare it to later when he's further along."

**"Done."**

"Whose side are you on?" Zim protested, shaking a fist.

"Just relax, you'll feel better once it starts digesting." Dib rubbed his fingers over it.

"Okay, that's enough," Dib said, turning to Zim who was slumping back on the couch, arms crossed so tightly his fingers dug into his arms. "Look, some weird stuff is going to happen to you, and it's not healthy if you fight it."

"But it was gross and annoying! And I- I really wanted that sugar!"

"The smeet probably needs simple energy to be able to grow." Dib reasoned. "You're its only way of getting what it needs, so you-"

"It's using me!" Zim's claws dug into his arms, eyes wide.

"Zim, we just went over this, it can't think, it's just a lump of meat right now." Dib started rubbing the top of Zim's head. "But it's going to be… unpleasant, for a while. Weeks, possibly even months. You're one of the strongest people I know, you'll handle it."

Zim's color was starting to fade. "This is going to be happening for… months?"

"You're basically growing a new person from scratch," Dib said. "It's going to mess with your body." The way Zim's antennae lay flat against his head combined with his wide eyes made him look more bug-like than ever. "Come on, I know you jump into things, but you knew this was going to happen."

"Cease your gloating and let Zim think." Zim hugged himself a little tighter.

"I'm not gloating. You still look sick." Dib set a hand on Zim's forehead. "You're sweaty, but no fever, at least."

"Months... "

"If it does end up as a four-month timescale, it'll probably only be a few more weeks. Humans tend to get over the really bad stuff by the end of the first third."

"But it's not human!" Zim gripped a pillow, hugging it tightly.

"It's part human. Worrying about it won't help."

"And not worrying about it will lead to something hooooorrrrrrible!" Zim squeezed the pillow until a seam popped.

"Zim, look at me." Dib grabbed one of Zim's hands. "Look at me."

Zim moved his head, seeing Dib staring at him.

"I can't imagine how scary this is. But you're the stubborn ass that has been able to shake off literally everything thrown at you. If you think this little thing is going to take you down, you're not as great as you aways say you are."

Zim stared at him for a moment, before one antenna twitched up. "I am amazing, aren't I? This is just working out the bugs before we get the smeetling."

"Right." Dib grabbed the pillow, and Zim slowly let go of it. "You're going to be fine. Trust me, if seven years of living on Earth haven't killed you yet, especially with about four of them with me actively trying to finish the job, nothing will."

"You're just terrible at it." Zim was grinning again, though, and Dib smiled back.

"Good thing too. I'd much rather have you here than hanging up on somebody's wall right now."

"Ugh, that's what you had planned?"

"Look, I knew up to the autopsy, everything after that was just details," Dib said. "It doesn't matter now."

"I'd deserve a tank and a spotlight!"

"Yeah, yeah." Dib nudged him. "What would you have done with me?"

"Hmm… made you into a zombie slave."

"That's… actually kind of cool," Dib admitted.

"The offer is still on the table if you're interested."

"I'll pass," Dib said, just as Zim yawned. He… wasn't sure he'd ever heard that before. "Tired?"

"No, just resting my… eyes for a minute…" Zim set his head on Dib's lap, eyes sliding closed. He curled up, knees just below his stomach, and Dib smiled.

"Sweet dreams, Zim, and good luck." His nose wrinkled at a sour smell, realizing Zim had gotten a spot of throw-up on his uniform, and wiped it off with a tissue. "You're going to need it."


	10. Horses and Temperatures

Dib groaned, feeling drool running down the side of his lips and over the bottom of his cheek. He sat up, wiping it off before looking down at Zim, curled up next to him and still fast asleep. Zim's gloved hands clutched at the thin sheets, but he looked more relaxed than he'd been when he'd fallen asleep on the couch upstairs.

Dib was lucky he remembered which room in the lower base was the one with the bed. It had been a long day at work, he'd simply set Zim down and laid down next to him, falling asleep himself. Glancing at his watch, it had been nearly five hours.

Dib smiled at him. He'd almost never seen Zim fall asleep despite all the stalking he'd done, but this was the third time since Zim had become pregnant- his body must have been working overtime to keep the smeet healthy. Great, he was calling it a smeet now too. Well, it was kind of a cute word, and Zim insisted on it, so it wasn't that much of a problem.

He couldn't help setting a hand on Zim's side, feeling the bump under the fabric. It was still sinking in- they were really going to be parents in a few months. Absently, he wondered what the base would look like if Dib moved in for a while to help while it was an infant. The image of Zim in a housewife outfit and waving around a spatula had him muffling a snorting laugh. It would be a miracle if the kid grew up anywhere close to normal, but normal kind of sucked. As long as they gave it attention and love, it would be fine.

Probably.

Man, he hoped it wouldn't need a pak, it would be awful if it just died right after it was born. Hopefully the human half would cancel that out- or maybe paks only became essential after they were put on in the first place? He'd have to ask Zim about that at some point, although he kind of doubted he would know. The idea of everyone being connected to some kind of supercomputer thing that could probably mess with your brain at will made him shudder.

Zim's left antenna twitched and his grip on the blanket. "D-don't…" He mumbled, much quieter than he always was awake.

"Zim?" Dib's train of thought derailed from paks and domesticity as he set a hand on Zim's side, but the irken curled in tighter on himself, trying to make himself into a ball.

"No, mine!" Zim practically hissed. Dib started shaking him- and nearly got skewered by a furious pak leg.

"Woah- Zim, wake up!" Dib scrambled back, managing to catch himself before he fell of the bed. "You're having a nightmare!"

"Don't you dare-" Zim switched to the clicks and hisses of his native irken. Dib looked around, grabbing a pillow before chucking it at Zim's head.

"Come on, wake up!"

Zim shot up, breathing hard. His head swung from side to side, finally locking on to Dib.

"Dib! What are you- where am I?" His pak was glowing, and Dib held up his hands in a placating gesture.

"You're in the room in the lower base with the bed. You fell asleep upstairs, and I brought you down before falling asleep next to you. When I woke up, you were having a nightmare."

"Zim has no night-horses." Zim's eyes were still wide, and Dib approached slowly.

"Well, you were talking in your sleep, and you sounded mad."

"You shouldn't have been listening." Zim shot back.

"I have no idea what it was about, I think you were trying to keep people away from something of yours?"

Zim waved a hand. "Well, I can't remember it now, so it couldn't have been that important." His right antenna bobbed and he tilted his head. "Hey, do you have any chocolate?"

Dib rummaged around in his coat. "It's probably all gross and melted now, but here." He handed Zim a rather misshapen fun-sized bar that had melted and solidified again in his pocket. Zim tore at the wrapper with his teeth, eating it in one bite. "Well, at least you're fine now."

"Uh curse ah am-" Zim swallowed the chewed up candy. "No night-ponies will scare me ."

"Of course not." Dib rolled his eyes. "Anyways, I've got today off."

"Excellent! The cows should be ready for harvesting by now."

"Harvesting?" Dib raised an eyebrow. "What are they for, anyways?"

"Trying to create meat I can eat without having to order it from Foodcourtia. It's always so gross and dry by the time it gets to me. So dry…"

"Oh. Well, I guess that makes sense. You said they were merged with chickens, right?"

"Mhm." Zim slid off the bed, marching off, and Dib ducked his head to avoid it hitting the top of the doorframe as he followed.

"Well, that could be something useful for making a new strain of meats. Are they more cow than chicken?"

"Eeeh, it kinda varies, but they're real smart. Yeah, real smart."

"You bred something to just be slaughtered and decided to give it intelligence?" Dib grimaced.

"Oh, don't make that face, Gir taught them to enjoy going to their graves, it's no… problem…" Zim blinked, tugging at the collar of his uniform. "Computer, did you start fiddling with the temperature control again?"

"No."

"Did Gir?"

"Nope."

"Where is Gir?"

"Right here!" Gir popped up from under a control panel, bits of stuffing ripped out of a plush doll stuck to the nutella smeared all over his suit.

"Ugh, Gir, you're gross." Zim mumbled. A small radio-like thing appeared from his Pak. "Full evaluation."

A monotone voice started listing off, with static buzzing every few words. "Base temperature is .0045 zzzt two heats more zzt usual. Smeet is growing zzzzt same pace as before. Body is zzzzt to generate optimal gestation environment. Sweat is beginning to form at base zzzt antennae, and near the bottom of zzt abdomen-"

"Alright, that's enough." Zim shoved the radio back into his pak. "Right, computer said it was going to mess with temperature…"

"It sounds like it's supposed to help, though, so that's good…" Dib gave Zim a once-over. "Feeling sticky?"

"None of your business."

"It is if you're going to get sick."

"I can handle a few extra measly heat units."

"Really? Because humans die if they get six or seven degrees above normal."

"Pssh, that's humans."

"You smell like burgers." Gir stared up at Zim. "I'm gonna eatchya."

"No, you aren't." Zim rubbed his forehead. "Computer, get me… ehh, what do I usually do when I'm sick?"

"Whine about it and blame Dib for infecting you, usually, before curling up in the med bay."

"Eheheh… oh, yeah."

"Seriously?" Dib planted his hands on his hips.

"Well, you're the meatbag that graces my presence most." Zim shrugged. "It must be you."

"Gir literally rolls around in trash."

"I sure do!"

"Gir is irken technology, he wouldn't poison me!"

"It's not poison, it's your body trying to deal with- look, do you want to go back to bed?"

"I won't let a few units ruin my plans for the day." Zim declared. They walked in silence (well, except for Gir's whistling of some cheery tune, and Dib absently wondered how he could whistle without lips) until Zim's usual steady marching started to stumble.

"Zim?"

"I'm fine!" Zim's antennae flicked, and Dib swore he saw a dot of liquid flip off the end of one. Sweat, probably.

"It's not weak to need a break if you've got a fever," Dib raised an eyebrow. "I know the one I got senior year knocked me out for almost five days. Dad kept trying experimental cures for it." He paused. "You know, that might be why it lasted five days."

"Feh, you worry too much." Zim said, even as his cheeks dotted with a flush. Dib narrowed his eyes before leaning over, scooping Zim up in one easy motion. "RELEASE ME!"

"Nope, not until you say you're going to lay low for a few hours."

"Never!" Zim was very, very squirmy, and also very, very strong, but years of practice had taught Dib just how to pin him when he needed to. His pak was settled between Dib's arms, at just the right position that if he tried to use any weapons or the legs in it, the entrances were either forced shut by Dib's chest or would completely skewer the human if used, something Zim didn't want. (Usually. Dib had close calls, especially the first few times.) "You use your aged tallness against me?"

"Yeah, if it stops you from passing out on the floor instead." Dib said. "Look, I'll make you something if you ditch dealing with the experiment for a while, how's that sound?"

"You shall not bribe the mighty-"

"Gaz taught me how to make those doughnuts you were drooling over before."

"...I do need to keep my energy up. But only if you put me down!"

"Heheh, Master's tinyyyy."

"Gir, shut up."

"Aw, don't be mean! It's cute, you's a big dolly." Gir had a wide grin as Dib cautiously set Zim down.

"No, Gir. Not cute. I am an invader!"

"I mean, he's got a point. You are kind of adorable." Dib said, holding down a hand for Gir to high-five, something the robot eagerly did.

The moment was a bit spoiled, however, by the fact that Zim took the distraction of the high-five to kick Dib right in the shin.


	11. Doughnuts

Dib ended up making the doughnuts anyway. Zim had started whining and kicking at the newly-forming bruise, and besides, he kind of wanted doughnuts too now. He distracted Gir by tying a piece of string with a noodle on the end to his antenna, letting the robot chase himself in circles before passing out and starting to drool on the living room carpet.

"Alright, bon appetit." Dib set the tray down in front of Zim, licking the powdered sugar from his own lips. He'd already eaten his- after the bag of sugar incident, he didn't trust Zim around any sweets he wanted for himself, considering his apparent capacity nowadays.

Zim grabbed one. "I will forgive the picking up just this once."

"Right, I'm so honored." Dib said, settling down next to him. "Still feel hot?"

"Don't worry your big pretty head over it, I'm fine." Zim said, shoving the doughnut into his mouth.

"Pretty?" Dib laughed. "You are delirious."

"That's a phrase, no?" Zim asked. "I thought you'd appreciate the compliment."

"Oh, you're- you were being serious?" Dib blinked. "Thanks, then."

"Mmm, it's only because you made me foods." Zim said. "Not as good as your sister did, though."

"Yeah, she's weirdly good at cooking. She said it was something to do with chemical reactions, but it was a trip the first few months when she kept using way too much sugar in stuff and forgot to drain the fat out of the hamburger. Boy, did those end up gross."

Gir kicked at something in his sleep, one leg flying halfway across the room before zooming back to his body like a magnet. Dib stared at him for a moment before looking back up at Zim, now on his third doughnut. He pulled out his notebook, starting to take down a few notes. He preferred writing on paper sometimes- he'd had either Zim or Gir break his digital notepad one too many times.

Zim currently has a fever, and it made him stumble and he's sweating, but it doesn't seem to be affecting him much emotionally. Not yet, anyway. He's eating multiple doughnuts, which is helping confirm my theory that his body craves sweets. Zim's diet usually consists of foods high in sugar already, and the incident with Tak trying to fill the planet with snacks as well as the few transmissions I've seen to the Tallests make me think that it's a staple of irken diets. I wonder if Zim would be less hyper if he cut down on it, but I'm not going to risk it, especially while he's carrying a kid. I should look up what pregnant people usually crave, but so far it seems like he hasn't wanted any human food he didn't already tolerate or like, so it might be more irken than human. Besides, it wasn't made how babies usually are, so it probably had to use more of Zim's DNA to compensate for

"Wha're you doin'?" Zim mumbled, getting crumbs on the paper as he craned his head to look. Dib tilted the notebook away.

"Nothing."

"Show to Zim!"

"It's just writing down what you're doing right now. You know what you're doing." Dib said, gnawing on the end of his pen.

"I do," Zim said with a swallow. "But I don't know what you think I'm doing."

"I think you're sitting there eating your fifth doughnut." Dib raised an eyebrow.

"Okay, okay, you do." Zim said, digging the tv remote out of the couch cushions and clicking it on. "Heh, I remember this episode. It's terrible."

"Riiiiiight." Dib started writing again.

not having even amounts. Unless it's been collecting my blood for a while? That's kind of creepy to think about. Zim seems a little calmer right now- the computer said he's usually whiny when he gets sick, but maybe the baby is taking all his energy? Considering how many sweets he's having, maybe it's going to go through some kind of growth spurt? I can kind of see it, but he's slumped over weird so it's not very clear. I wonder if it's uncomfortable, but he'd probably be complaining if it was. He complains a lot in general.

"Dib."

Really, I guess I would complain a lot too if I was on a planet where 75% of the food could kill me, and the atmosphere too if the way Gaz said he was during that incident where his pak got knocked off. Ugh, that still makes me shudder- I brush up against the marks in the shower a lot. I'm probably one of the only people on earth who has almost completely circular scars. At least Zim's blood didn't poison me or anything. I hope. I threw up afterwards but I'm pretty sure that was just getting alien machinery yanked out of my guts.

"Diiiiib."

I wonder if that's the reason I can understand some irken writing? I mean, yeah, it's a language like any other, but learning the alphabet came weirdly easy, almost like I already knew it. Maybe at some point we could do some controlled tests and see if he could transfer some information into my brain. That'd be so cool! He probably wouldn't object to me learning some irken history, it's not like I could use it against him.

"Dib, why are there two of you?"

Dib looked up at that. "Huh?"

"I said , why are there two of you? Are your earholes not working?" Zim's skin was slick with sweat now and he was trembling. Dib fumbled the notepad back into his pocket, pressing the back of his hand to Zim's forehead.

"Shit, you're hot!"

"I know I am." Zim gave a loopy grin, words sounding a tad slurred. "So?"

"Hot physically, not attractively, you moron." Dib gnawed on his bottom lip as Zim hugged himself, rubbing his arms up and down his biceps. "Computer, anything that can help?"

**"It'll pass. Probably."**

"Great, you're useless," Dib muttered. "I can't exactly give you an ice pack… and dropping the temperature in here will just give you the chills."

"Dib. Wormy squirmy dirt-being." Zim slumped against Dib's side, cheek squishing against his shirt. "Warm me."

"You don't need to be warmed, you need to be cooled down," Dib said before Zim nuzzled his sweaty face on the fabric.

"You feel tolerable. You will be my pillow for now."

Dib ran a hand down Zim's head. It was still hot, but Zim wasn't shivering anymore. "Huh. Maybe this is a mating thing? Needing to be close?" Gir had been right, he kind of did smell like a burger. Weird.

"The pillows stink of turkey. You smell like me. You're the better choice for now." Zim said. "Now pet me."

"Mm?"

Zim's antennae both flicked in annoyance. "I said, pet me! You made me all sicky, you do what I say!"

"Okay, okay, geez. I just thought you were delirious at first." Dib started rubbing Zim's left antenna, and Zim made a happy-sounding chirping noise. Dib figured it meant he was doing something right and kept at it.

Within a few minutes, Zim had pulled his knees up to his stomach and closed his eyes. Dib wasn't sure if he was asleep or not. He wiped the sweat off on his own pants, and Zim was relaxing on his lap.

At some point, Zim had kicked the remote and muted the tv. Dib didn't mind, preferring to study the heap of alien in his legs anyways. Zim was nuzzled into him in a way he'd probably hate if he was fully aware. It didn't stop Dib from maneuvering out his phone to take a picture, though.

(By the end of the day, the fever had receded, but Zim was still strangely cuddly. Dib found he didn't mind.)


	12. Earth Drinks

At a month since it had started growing, Dib walked into his house with an armful of groceries and nearly had a heart attack. Zim was sitting on the arm of the couch, but that wasn't what made him scramble for the alien.

No, it was the fact that Zim was _chugging_ something with a poison sticker on the front.

"Zim, what the _fuck_?"

Zim wiped his arm over his mouth. "What, did you want some?"

"No- how aren't you foaming at the mouth right now?" Dib pried the bottle out of his hands.

"Psssh, I've had this before. I just added a sugar cube to it." Dib squinted- there was indeed a half-melted cube of sugar bobbing at the top of the liquid.

"Chloride? Did you go rummaging around under the sink?"

Zim picked at his teeth with a claw. "My supplies took too long to get here this month, and you owe me. You're lucky I've grown a tolerance to earth-slushies from the place down the street, or I would have raided your fridge for foods earlier"

"I can't believe you," Dib said in disbelief. "This isn't food. If I drank this I would probably die. And you throw up when you have milk. Or anything, really. How did you even figure out you can drink this?"

Zim shrugged. "Gir, of course. He'll eat anything, and shoved it at me once. It smelled good."

Dib screwed the cap on over the top of the chloride. "At this point I'm tempted to just move in with you for the next few months. You could have killed the kid!"

"If I can handle it, they can." Zim waved a hand flippantly.

"You don't know that!" Dib's heart was still beating like someone had started a drum solo in his chest. "Look, if you aren't going to eat human foods, will you at least not eat things that could kill a human? Until it develops more, it could be enough human that could hurt it really badly."

"It's mine, it's stronger than anything you can imagine." Zim cupped a hand over his stomach, now big enough to make a small but visible bump in his uniform. "And considering how much you've survived, your bigheadedness will keep it from dying of something stupid."

"I- ugh!" Dib flopped down on the couch. "Why couldn't I have just met a nice paranormal investigator and had dates where we hunted ghosts or something?"

"You're saying you don't want me anymore?" Zim narrowed his eyes. "You're the luckiest human on the planet, to be as close to a member of a superior race as you are."

"You don't get it. If you make one really wrong move, it could die. And you just started drinking something that could kill me , never mind a baby. You have to avoid things that could hurt you or humans!"

"If you think it's so easy, you raise it in _your_ guts!" Zim pulled his knees up to his chest.

"I can't do that, even if you could move it I don't have any place to _put_ it!" Dib tugged at his hair. "And if I did and we did do that then Dad would freak and I'd be taken in by the government and they'd do experiments on the baby and I'd never see you or Gaz again, and then they'd probably take you too, and-" Zim slapped a pillow over Dib's face, shutting him up long enough for him to start breathing again. "Okay, maybe I'm a little more panicked than I thought, but just seeing you drinking poison-"

"It's not poison to _me_. I'd prefer to keep myself healthy, as hard as Earth makes it to do that!" Zim shook a fist at the sky.

"Yeah, but it's still poison to humans."

"Yes, yes, you said that. I'll avoid kool-ride from now on."

"If you get cravings for something you haven't seen me or Gaz eat before, ask me first." Dib said. "Okay?"

"I've been on this planet for years, I know-"

Dib grabbed Zim's face, forcing him to meet his eyes. "I want you to promise."

"Eh?"

"Promise on your Tallest."

"I can't do that!"

"Then you're not leaving my sight until you do. I want to hear it. I know you lie, but you won't lie if it's on them."

Zim gave an exaggerated sigh. "I promise, on the Almighty Tallests, I won't eat anything I haven't seen you stuff you face with. Happy?"

"Not as much as I'd like to be, but a little bit." Dib pulled out his phone. "It's been a month, I'm making another log."

Zim smoothed down his uniform shirt before nodding. "Fine, fine."

Dib flicked the video on. "Hey! Log three. It's been a month. I'm not sure if it is still going to be the four month estimate, but Zim's checked and it's still growing steadily. He's showing now even when his shirt is down, but it's not really obvious unless you're looking for it. He just kind of looks a little chubby. Ow!" Zim had elbowed him at that. "What? It's true."

"It isn't fat, it's your dumb genes making it too big." Zim said. "I want that on the record- Dib's bigness making it heavy."

"It's going to get heavier. You're just used to being really skinny. Anyways, visual. Zim, pull up your shirt."

"I don't want to now. You called me fat."

Dib sighed. "Don't you want a good show of progress? You can't do a good experiment without notes."

Zim mumbled something in irken but reluctantly tugged the shirt up. The bump was more obvious now, curving from the bottom of his torso to a few inches below where nipples would be on a human. It sort of looked like there was a shallow bowl settled under his skin.

"Alright, that's good. So far he's dealt with nausea, fever, and cravings, but nothing he didn't eat already. At least not yet… although I walked in on him drinking chloride a little bit ago. He's lucky I won't slap him right now."

"Hey!"

"Anyways, that's all for now. End of month one, Dib out."


	13. Stuck Ports

Zim was alone today. A few years ago, that wouldn't have phased him, but now… the house felt too quiet, even with the energy thrumming healthily between the walls and the sounds of the tvs on either side of the base blaring and making his antennae twitch. Gir was irk knew where, probably out getting some greasy food. Honestly, it was preferable to him trying to feed the 'bay-bee'. (It wasn't going to be a bee, so Zim didn't get the term, although Dib did say he was some small part bee now, so maybe it would be? If it came out with malformed wings he was going to give the Dib a good hard smack, though. He was still nervous around human babies sometimes after the incident with the nhar-gh'ok. Even the non-alien ones drooled and smelled. His certainly wouldn't do that.) Gir had thrice tried to shove spoonfuls of mashed potatoes crumbled with chips into his stomach, despite there being no way the smeet could get any nutrients from that. He didn't even have a little denty old mouth there like most humans did, since he was grown in a tube.

Dib didn't really have one either, though, since apparently he'd been grown in a tube too. Heh. Kind of funny that they'd been made the same way, but Zim was growing the smeet the old-fashioned way. The really old fashioned way.

He stuck his tongue out without thinking as he strained to reach the top shelf. He'd crawled up on top of the counter in the kitchen, trying to get at the package of bacon Gir had placed there weeks ago and forgotten. It was starting to smell terrible and he wanted to throw it out. He grinned as he grasped the edge of the package, but he pulled it out with such force that he tumbled backwards. He tried to send his pak legs out to catch him, but-

BAM!

He hit the floor hard, bruising his poor butt. "What was that? " He tried to crane his neck to check out his Pak, but could only see the edges, same as always. He risked popping it off for a few moments, lifeclock immediately starting in the corner of his vision, but a quick visual inspection yielded exactly what he'd gotten used to- a small dent in the lower left corner, and a bit of a chip in the upper right he needed to straighten out one of these days, but nothing wrong. He put it back on, hearing the satisfying click.

"Computer!"

**"What?"**

"Is there anything wrong with my pak?"

A lavender light scanned him. **"The lower ports are stuck."**

Zim's shriek nearly rattled the walls. "What?"

**"There's nothing wrong with the life supports. It's probably a malfunction, since the smeet's hitting a growth spurt and your pak doesn't know how to handle maintaining two life forms properly."**

Zim tugged on his antennae, sore butt forgotten in the new revelation. "If it won't let the legs work, what if the atmospheric filter breaks? Or the translator? Or the memory bank!"

**"Those are deeply encoded. Stop whining, it'll be fine,"** The computer half-huffed.

Zim's spooch turned at the idea nevertheless. He set a hand on the bump. "Did you say a growth spurt?"

**"You'll see."**

"Ominous," Zim muttered, tapping out a rhythm on the standard-issue fabric with two fingers. "Very useless too.."

**"Your skin got crazy stretched during that weird organ binge you did years ago. You'll be fine."**

"My pak wasn't glitching then, it fixed the skin up afterwards." Zim said, tugging up his uniform. A few faint lines were darker than the rest of the skin. "My perfect skin!"

**"It'll heal itself once it's out."**

"But it looks bad now!" Zim prodded at it with one gloved finger. It kind of itched. It was nothing compared to other terribly painful sensations he'd dealt with before, but for some reason, it caught in his brain. "How much longer until it's out again?"

**"Three months. Maybe four."**

"Maybe four?!"

**"It's hard to tell since it's part human."**

Zim growled at that, pulling the shirt back down so fast that if it hadn't been superior irken fabric, it probably would have ripped. "I don't want to deal with this for another four months!"

**"Well, you'll have to, drama queen." **

"Don't talk back at me!" Zim stood up, cracking his back as he arched it forward. "And you," he glared down, "You'd better be worth it. Cutting off access to parts of my pak… you really are part Dib-pig, aren't you? Being all annoying and messing with my things. And getting annoyingly big… but that means you'll be tall. That's good. Maybe once you're out you'll listen to me. You're part me, you'll have to be aware of how brilliant and amazing I am. And I can get you to help with the experiments Dib started babbling to me about his precious 'ethics' on. You're grounded for hurting your birther, though. For a month!"

He pulled himself up unto the couch, still looking down."Still, you'll know I'm right and be a good little smeet. You just don't have anywhere to cause good destruction yet except in me… bah, I wish I could give you to Dib for a few weeks, let him handle how well even irken smeets create beautiful chaos." Zim thought for a moment. "I haven't contacted the Tallests in a few weeks, I can't let them worry about me… I'll do that tomorrow, they'll be most interested in how the cow-chickens have started cannibalizing each other." He grinned. "The look on Dib's face when he saw the chicken ones pecking the eyeballs of the cows out was incredible."

He ran a quick diagnostic scan on his pak. It came back a tad scrambled, like it always did, but the parts he could read said his legs should be working again in a few days. Well, that wasn't too bad. Dib was good for reaching stuff, and so was Minimoose. It was only a minor setback.

He scratched idly at his hip. Yes, just a minor setback. Everything was going to be fine.

(The fact that he got nauseous again an hour later didn't help affirm that, but at least Gir came back without smelling like the disgusting mixed perfumes and boozy stench of a rave. Small victories.)


	14. Collapsed Fries

So far today, Zim had already checked on the chicken-cow experiment, (with disappointingly less cannibalism since he'd last looked- he'd planned to simply clone the strongest one that was left) had paced around in the lab for ten minutes, and had captured the neighbor boy in a brief attempt to figure out if he could turn his fingernails into poisoned claws since he was always scratching things and could cause some damage that way. (He just immediately scratched himself and passed out, which wasn't much use at all. It was kind of funny, though.)

His pak legs still weren't working, which was mostly annoying when he had to crawl on top of things. He didn't realize just how often he used them until they were cut off.

"You're getting an extra month's grounding. I'll make it a real one, and bury you in the backyard for the first few days." He tugged his uniform shirt down. It was starting to ride up a little. Not enough to show any skin, but any change was still… odd.

"Oooh, it'll be a groundhog mole baby!" Gir grinned, head poking out from behind the couch.

"No, it's irken and human." Zim said. "Get out of there, you'll collect dustbunnies, and I can't handle another infestation right now. We're out of carrots."

"Aww, I liked those. They were fluffy." Gir pulled himself out with a pop. "And tasty."

"You'll eat anything that you can get your little hands on, won't you?" Zim raised an eye, and Gir shrugged.

"Maybe… but the whole world's good!"

"Riiiiight." Zim had started pacing on the living room floor instead. "Where is he?"

"Who?"

"The Dib. He should be out of his work by now." Zim's boots made tiny squeaks as he turned on his heels. "You don't think he's gotten himself killed, do you?"

"I'unno." Gir tilted his head.

"That would be just like him, to go off and get himself killed and then expect me to do all the hard work. Dumb human." Zim arched his back inwards, hearing a small 'crack' as something in his spine reset. "And then- and then- oh, I was going to call the Tallests!" He looked around. "Hmm… Gir, do you have anything lying around I could use to cover my abdomen?"

"I've gotta stash from the Krazy Taco bathroom."

Zim winced. "Anything else?"

"Nope. And those are mine!" Gir hugged himself as if to protect them from where he stood.

"I need something, go grab one." Zim said. "And disinfect it first! Hmm… unless… computer, has the Dib left any clothes around here lately?"

**"He left a work shirt here yesterday."**

"That'll work. Bring it to me! But disinfect that too. I don't want any of his Dib-germs lingering on it."

Gir sighed in relief at not having to disturb his stash of stolen goods.

"Awww, you wanna wear Dibby? Like a weddin' ring, but bigger, and sweatier!"

"No, no, it's just… marginally cleaner than whatever smell-encrusted filth you have in your pile."

"It's real dirty…" Gir said almost dreamily.

"I'm sure it is." Zim crossed his arms, tapping his foot. "Unless… do you think I could get away with this?" He looked down at his abdomen. "I don't want them thinking I've gone soft… how noticeable is it?"

Gir walked over, examining Zim's midsection with an inquisitive 'hmmmm'ing noise before giving it a probing poke.

"You've got car rubber in there," Gir said decisively. "Gonna need a seatbelt for the baby."

"Great," Zim grumbled. "Computer, hurry up!"

**"I'm going, geez. Lighten up."** A minute later, the shirt was chucked at Zim's face. He gave it a cautious sniff. It smelled sort of like the pleasant fruit of the disinfectant, and sort of like Dib.

The familiar smell made his antennae lower a bit in relaxation, two seconds before he tossed the shirt away. "Gah! What was that?"

**"Don't ask me." **

Zim nudged at the shirt with the tip of his boot. "Dib must have poisoned it, making me feel all gooey…" He grabbed a wadded up blanket, tying it around his waist. "There, that works! Computer, contact the Tallests."

**"Contacting the Tallests!" **

Gir wiggled into the couch, metal butt waggling in the air for a moment before turning around with the cushion on top of his head.

The image flickered unto the screen- Purple was trying to make a pyramid out of fries, while Red was talking at one of the pilots.

"Greetings, my Tallests!"

"Seriously?" Purple's fry-tower half-collapsed. He looked up at Zim. "Just get it over with, what is it now?"

"I've managed to create a fascinating hybrid between two earth animals that could help invaders grow their own food! Well, it was mostly for me because my shipments of supplies always take forever, but they're starting to all eat each other! Isn't that great?" Zim grinned.

"Yeah, yeah, great." Red said, looking up. "Was there anything else?"

"Eh…. of course! I've managed to grow more of a tolerance to several Earth foods, so it is possible for us to use some of the resources here!" His grin widened, but a feeling of molten glass started to churn in his lower spooch. Something was… off.

"Right." Purple picked up one of the fallen fries and bit into it. "Good for you. Now, maybe if I use the big one…?"

"And I've managed to get the Dib to hand over valuable technology to help in discovering…." Zim cleared his throat, chest tight. "Discovering weaknesses. Impressive, n-no?"

"Mhm." Red had his arms crossed, tapping an index finger against his sleeve armor with a soda dripping from being tilted in his other hand.

Zim opened his mouth to continue on with an assurance that he was fine despite the sadly long absence between calls when his belly rebelled violently against the idea. He tried to lock his legs to stay standing, but it only helped him stay up for a few extra seconds before he fell to his knees. "J-just a moment my T-hrrrk!" Thick, slimy vomit burned at his throat and splattered his hands as he tried to cover his mouth, hitting the floor with a nasty slapping sound. It was disgustingly warm.

"Oh, ew!" Zim wasn't entirely sure which Tallest had said it. Maybe Purple? "Cut the feed, that's disgusting!"

There was a fuzzy static sound from the tv moments later, but it was laid under the ringing in his antennae. His whole body felt too hot and too cold at the same time. He managed to pull himself up to his knees, both arms wrapping around himself as if he could hug the sick feeling away.

**"You want that cleaned up?"** The computer was proactive in asking for once. Zim nodded.

"Get rid of it…"

"Oh, boy!" Gir jumped off the couch, but Zim grabbed him by an arm.

"If you try and eat that, I'm throwing up inside your head."

Gir clapped at that, but it faltered when Zim weakly narrowed his eyes at him. "Oh. Bad?"

"Yes, bad. Go mop it up, and get Minimoose."

Gir ran off, and Zim pulled himself up unto the couch.

That… could have gone better.

* * *

A/N: Okay, so I've... completely forgot to keep updating here, oops. I'm up to chapter 24 on ao3, but I figured I shouldn't dump all of them at once. Anyways, I'm going to probably be running a contest for this fic! There's two categories, chapter art (which is just art for a specific chapter) and 'inspired by the fic'. My tumblr's kind of blown up with a ton of ideas branching off the fic, and with a bunch of fanart for future aus, alternate timeline aus, ect. Anything that's got some basis from the fic but isn't from a specific chapter counts- and fic would count too! The prizes are colored art (my tumblr is shadowofthelamp and it's under tagged / shadow+sketches) or a 800-1000 word request One winner for each category, and depending on number of entries runner-ups will get a sketch! The writing prize just follows the rules of my commissions. I'll decide on end-dates later. Hope you're enjoying the fic!


	15. Your Fault

The first thing Dib got when he arrived at the base that day was a pillow chucked directly at his head.

"I hate you!"

Dib let the pillow flop to the floor, checking his glasses for cracks. An old habit, even though the new reinforced glass could probably remain intact if he stepped on a land mine and it was the only thing left of him. "And what do you hate me for?"

Zim was on his stomach on the couch, face planted firmly in the remaining pillow. Dib wasn't sure if he should be putting all his weight on his front side like that, but the cushions _were_ pretty soft. It was probably fine.

"Do you know what happened an hour ago?"

"I'll bite. What?"

"I got sick. _In front of the Tallests._"

Dib raised an eyebrow. "Didn't you say you contacted them while still wearing that weird napkin-meat suit once? They're probably used to weird stuff from you."

"That's not the point right now! I need to look strong in front of them, or they'll reassign me!"

"You'll be fine, Zim." Dib set a hand on Zim's back, but with a snarl, Zim batted it away.

"Do not touch me! You already poisoned me with your vile fabric of evil!"

"Fabric of evil?" Dib looked around, spotting his discarded shirt. "Oh, hey, that's where that went." He grabbed it. "I didn't do anything do it. Why?"

"It made me _gooey_. I didn't like it." Zim flipped himself over, staring up at Dib. "Too gooey…"

"Gooey how?" Dib pulled out his notebook, but Zim swatted that away too. "Hey!"

"Stop taking notes, this is the time for me to blame you!"

"Geez, fine. You're moody today."

Zim sat up, glaring at him. "I'm not moody, I'm _sick_ and it's your fault! Everything's your fault! I couldn't finish this mission yet because you were always there, and now parts of the lab stink of you and it's making me woozy, and-"

"Woah, woah, back up. The smell is making you woozy? How long has that been happening?"

"Not long. But long enough! Any time is long enough!" Zim gripped at Dib's collar, pulling him close enough for Dib to smell the sugar on his breath. He must have eaten something after being sick. "I demand that you fix it!"

"That's not a symptom humans deal with, I don't think," Dib said. "That's gotta be an irken thing."

"Pssh, that's ridiculous. Computer! Prove me right!"

**"Actually, he has a point. Feeling more relaxed around the mate did happen in some of the older reports."**

Dib grinned. "See?"

"That- no! You did this to try and lower my defenses- and you got the computer in on it too!" Zim's head darted around, frantic. His antennae were pressed flat against his head in nervousness, and when Dib reached for his shoulder, he scrambled back. "I _said_ don't touch me!"

Dib's eyes were wide. "Zim?"

"I can't- you're just going to hurt us!" Sweat beaded on Zim's forehead, and he moved back again with a hand cupping over his stomach protectively- scooting all the way over the couch arm and hitting the floor.

"Woah, Zim, calm down!" Dib held up his hands. "I'm not going to hurt you, but you're acting really weird."

"_You're_ acting weird, being all… grabby!"

"I'm not being all grabby. You're being all paranoid."

"You poisoned me, and you're- you're going to take the smeet and experiment on it, aren't you? You always wanted that, and now you- you-" Zim smacked at the floor, and a small trapdoor opened up, dropping him down into the lower base.

"Zim- goddammit, really? " Dib stared down the hole. "You better not hit your head! Computer, can you get me an elevator to wherever he ended up?"

**"What's the magic word?"**

"Now!"

**"Hmmph. Doesn't sound very magic to me."**

"Fine, _please?_"

**"There we go." **The couch turned over and Dib was dumped unceremoniously on his face on the elevator floor. It sped downwards as Dib struggled to stand up while it moved. It was fruitless anyways- as soon as they reached the lower level, the computer jolted to a stop with a loud **"ARRIVED!"** that just knocked Dib to his knees again. He gave a quick glare to the ceiling before running out.

"Zim? Come on, we need to figure out what's wrong!" Dib cupped his hands around his mouth to try and make his voice louder. He wandered for a good five minutes, nerves only winding tighter at each second that passed. If Zim did something stupid when he was freaked out like this and hurt the kid… Zim himself was a cockroach, Dib half-doubted _anything_ could kill him, but the baby almost certainly was more vulnerable. "If you come out, I'll help you on your next experiment, whatever it is! As long as it's not dissecting puppies again, that was just gross." Dib peered into each room, looking for Zim but finding nothing. His head whipped around at a crash and a yelp from somewhere to his right, and he bolted for the direction of the sound.

"Oh, come on!" Dib jogged towards the voice- Zim sounded a little less freaked out now, maybe it was over? A light flickered on in a room to his left and he stuck his head in, to see-

Zim, huddled against the class that held the two remaining sharp-toothed weasels. One was poking at the other. There was a pile of equipment next to him that still had dust settling around it. "Really, Alexander, I thought you were the good one!" Zim muttered, glancing back at the tank. "Now I'll have to make more before I can release-"

Dib hurried over. "Zim?"

"What?" Zim looked up at him. "Have you come to mock me?"

"Not right now. You really freaked out up there." Dib sat down. "You okay?"

"Of course, why wouldn't I be?"

"Are you- are you serious? You looked ready to cram yourself into your safe room for a week. You're really fine?"

"That was ten minutes ago," Zim said. "I realized if you wanted to hurt me, you'd know far more effective ways than making me more comfortable around you to get my guard down. So I just locked you out of the weapons vault."

"...You have a weapons vault?"

Zim started laughing at that. "Oh, come on, every building should come with a weapons vault. You don't have one?"

Dib hugged his legs to his chest. "No, I don't. But I guess you're having weird snappy mood swings now, that's something that's going to be real fun."

"I am not! _That_ was perfectly reasonable paranoia, considering you've tried to kill me before."

"I haven't in at least three years."

"Pssh, that's not that long."

"It is for me."

"That's because humans are dumb and their timing is dumb."

Dib sighed. "Right. Of course."

"Now, help me get rid of this weasel-ranha corpse before it starts stinking up the water."

Dib held out his hands, wondering when sentences like that stopped being strange to him.

If Zim switched between moods like this a lot, especially if they started getting more extreme, he was going to start bringing sweets to bribe him, and stuff for headaches.

He was going to need it.


	16. Explody Powder

At a month and a half, Dib found Zim covered head-to-toe in some kind of alien dust, blinking wide eyes and trying to rub at them. "Ugh, it got in my eyes! My precious eyeballs!"

"What's that?"

Zim turned to him, only just noticing he'd come in. "It's exploding powder. I was going to test it on the neighbor kid since he threw a rock at the window. It takes a whole half hour to fix the windows! That rotten little...!"

Dib sucked in a breath through his teeth. "What makes it explode?"

"It's homemade, that's why I'm testing it, but usually it's moving a lot. 'Cause, you know, everything has to move. Except for plants, but if I was going to explode a plant I'd just blow it up. Plants are dumb, they can't get out of the way."

If Zim wasn't _literally _the death of him via some weird alien weapon, giving his heart such a workout every day was certainly going to lean his demise toward cardiac arrest. "How do you get it off? "

"You're not supposed to without blowing into a billion pieces, but I'll just blast it off with cleansing gel. Computer! Bring me a hoverpad to go to the cleaning room!"

**"Fiiine."** A chute opened above Zim's head, but the little disk that shot out luckily didn't hit him. Zim carefully climbed up onto it.

"That won't jostle you or anything, right?"

Zim rolled his eyes. "I wouldn't be _doing _it if it did, would I?" At least Dib was pretty sure he'd rolled his eyes, from how the light changed in them. It must have been a habit he picked up from skool or from him. With irkens having only one color in their eyes, it wouldn't have exactly developed as a cultural thing there. Dib wondered for a moment what habits he'd pick up if he was on another planet for years on end, before Zim giving a little yelp brought his attention directly back to the matter at hand. Zim had nearly rammed into the door out and was fiddling with a small dial on the front of the disk. "Gir must have set it too high. He's got rockets, why would he- there!"

"You sure you don't just want me to carry you?"

"I'd use my pak legs if they wouldn't have too much movement. Your rudimentary meat-legs would be even worse."

"Riiight." Dib crossed his arms as Zim started floating down the hall. "Is there anything else in the room that'll explode since you spilled it?"

"The computer can clean that up," Zim said, shifting a little so he'd turn to the left. "I'd rather you not lose a foot, I'm not sure if the regenerative gel works on humans."

"How nice of you." Dib made a note to look for that- it would be good to study. Dad was always looking for new types of medicine.

"I _am _quite generous to you, aren't I?" Zim grinned at him, before hacking, sticking his tongue out. "Ugh, it got in my mouth!" He steered into the bathroom, carefully sliding off the disk and into the shower. "Dispense cleansing gel."

_"Dispensing." _The voice sounded slightly different from the house computer- maybe the bathroom ran on a different system? Dib wondered why it would need that- besides the house computer sometimes being uncooperative- when a solid sheet slopped down on top of Zim, sliding down his body almost like gelatin and encasing him in its wake.

"Zim? Is that what's supposed to happen?" Zim ignored him, holding his arms out. He was still fully clothed. That had to feel weird.

The gel moved down Zim's body, picking up all the powdery explosives before starting to melt when it hit the floor of the shower. Zim tugged at his gloves as he stepped out. "Ah, that's better- eh?" He looked down at his stomach. "Bathroom, you missed some!"

A lavender light ran over Zim. _"Scanning ... subject is clean of any external contaminants."_

"Some of it sunk into my skin!" Zim tugged up his shirt. "It had to, it's all squirmy in there!"

Dib rushed over. "Wait, something's moving around?"

"Maybe I swallowed some of it?" Zim set a palm flat against the curve of his abdomen. "Scan internal structure!" He was bathed in light again.

_"Scanning. Foreign matter detected. Human DNA integrated with irken-"_

"Yes, yes, I know of that. Is there any explody powder left?"

"0% powder detected."

"What is that, then?"

"Zim… they're moving." Dib's eyes were practically sparkling. "They must be big enough now to start trying to stretch out."

Zim stared down, eyes widening. "It's… moving?" He moved his hand where he'd felt the weird sensation, and felt a slight twitch, almost like a moth had been trapped in his guts. "Gah, how can it _do _that?"

Dib set his hand next to Zim's. "They've probably got arms and legs now." He spread his fingers out, trying to feel something other than the slight movement as Zim breathed, the normal pace hitching up at bit as Zim realized what was happening.

"Trying to already get out, huh? I like it." Zim grinned, nudging it with his fingertips and pressing down just enough to pale the skin around the gloves. "You're not going to get far yet. My body's too strong. But it's a valiant effort, for something that's part human."

"They're really moving…" Dib felt the faintest flutter under his palm. "We really made-"

"_I _made!" Zim said, pointing back at his chest. "It's growing in me, and it's only because of me that it exists in the first place."

"You wouldn't be _having _it if you weren't so bitey and my blood wasn't compatible," Dib argued. "But it's really moving now… there's a little person in there." He looked down again, irritation melting away. "Now, if you can just stop falling into exploding powder and getting attacked by rabid experiment beavers for the next few months we'll be golden."

Zim crossed his arms in a huff, but Dib swore that he could see the dusting of a flush across his cheeks and smiled a little wider.


	17. Pancakes

A/N: So, uh... I completely forgot that I was putting this fic on ffnet too. I'll try to just copy over a bunch of chapters and then upload one a day until we catch up. If you want to see more, my ao3 is shadowofthelamp. That upload also has links to a ton of fanart in the author's notes. I did end up doing the contest and it was fun. If you just want to get a chapter a day, then feel free to stick around. Reviews appreciated! I also take asks about the fic on my tumblr over on shadowofthelamp, but beware spoilers since again, the ao3 upload is a lot further along than this one.

* * *

Dib woke up to Zim settled on his legs.

That wouldn't be that weird, except he was still at home. Dib reached for his glasses. "Zim?"

"Finally. I can't believe you can sleep so long when there's work to do!"

"What work? Did you break in through the window?" Dib yawned, adjusting his glasses to see Zim flipping through a stack of papers.

"No, I used the front door. I rewired it ages ago. We need to get supplies for the smeet."

"Oh, okay. Wait, you rewired the front door?"

"I knew I'd need to come get you at some point." Zim flippantly waved a hand. "If you didn't want it to be reprogrammed, you shouldn't have made so easy to do."

"It isn't easy for literally anyone else," Dib grumbled. "Don't use that for evil- Dad's lab downstairs still is only locked to me and Gaz."

"That's what _ you _think."

"Oh, come on!"

Zim snickered. "I wanted to see what you were bragging about, when you were at _ wooooooooork_." He dragged the word out for about four extra syllables. "Frankly, most of it was nothing to write home about. Now, I had Gir gather coupons from the…" He practically hissed the next words. "The _ mall _."

"Alright, do you want me to drive or are we walking?" Dib rolled out of bed, stretching. "And for your _ information_, most of the stuff Dad and I bring home are the ones that aren't working out as well, so you didn't see the best of it."

"I'm not getting into your death-trap of a vehicle, we will walk." Zim tilted his head at seeing Dib's body on full display. At the moment, he was only wearing a pair of star-patterned boxers. Little scars decorated over his skin under the sparse chest hair, as well as a few smaller burns on his wrists. Zim sort of remembered Dib griping about building a fire-fighting robot that kept setting itself on fire on accident. He licked his lips as Dib pulled on a t-shirt.

It _ was _always nice to see his handiwork decorating Dib like little trophies- he needed to give him some more good bites. He'd been too busy, had forgotten how much he belonged to Zim.

"Fair enough. Finding parking is always hell anyways." Dib tugged on some pants and his favorite boots. "Do you need anything to eat? You said you could eat the dry cereal right?"

Zim crossed his arms. "I don't need your pity food- I have enough of my own."

"Alright, but you have to wait for me to eat first." Dib hopped up on the banister, sliding down it with ease while Zim used the stairs. "Did Gaz see you?"

"Dib. Your boyfriend's here," Gaz said as Dib entered the kitchen, twirling a piece of pancake into mush.

"Okay, I guess she did." Dib grabbed a bowl of chocolate puffs and poured it, kicking out a chair for Zim. Zim decided to sit on top of the table instead.

"Get your alien butt off the table," Gaz said, raising her head a little at Zim.

"No, I like it up here." Zim crossed his legs, turning to look at her.

"You're not going to like my fist in your face. That's Dad's seat."

"He's not here right now, is he?"

Gaz's grip on her fork tightened, and Zim slid off the table and into the chair Dib had offered. She went back to her pancakes, and for a few moments, there was only the sound of chewing.

"So, you're pregnant?" Gaz leaned her elbows on the table.

Zim set a hand on his stomach, tilting away from her slightly. "What's it to you?"

"It's going to be my niece or nephew, that's what. It _ is _Dib's, right?"

"Gaz!"

"What? I know you two are all gaga for each other, but I don't know if it's some weird alien thing where he can reproduce by budding."

"It is Dib's, yes," Zim confirmed. Gaz nodded, seemingly satisfied.

"Don't expect me to babysit."

"You're still finishing up skool, I didn't expect you to," Dib said. "This is our responsibility… and I'm pretty excited to study how they bridge the gap between- oof!" Zim had forcefully elbowed him in the ribs, making him spit milk and bits of cocoa across the table.

"What the Dib _ means _ to say is that your services won't be necessary, I am perfectly capable of raising a little meatling on my own, especially with him to order around."

Dib wiped at his mouth. "Geez, I'm the dad, I'm still going to be as involved as possible. It's just a great opportunity for research. You were thinking it too, don't deny it."

"If they become the general of my hybrid army, that's neither here nor there."

"Riiiiight. Sure, space boy." Dib went back to his cereal, and Zim started tapping his fingers against the table.

Gaz stood up first, putting her dishes away before crouching in front of Zim. "I want to see."

"Mmm?"

"It's not growing in your head or something like that, right? I want to see."

"No, that would just be ridiculous," Zim scoffed. He shifted on the chair so Gaz could see the bump, and she set her fingertips over it. "I didn't say you could _touch_ it-"

"Huh, so it's not all squirmy and buggy. I expected it to be weirder." She flattened her palm for a moment before pulling away, looking at Dib. "Have you told Dad yet?"

Dib sunk down in his seat a little. "I'm… waiting for the right moment."

"Well, that's _your_ problem." She shrugged, nudging her chair in with her elbow. "If he kicks you out, I get your room."

"He's not going to kick me out!" Dib ran a hand through his hair, the scythe bouncing up as he did. "I mean, he was so happy to see me getting along with Zim, and he's actually talking to me at work, he wouldn't… he said he started planning me when he was like twenty, remember? And he was alone then, I have Zim."

"Yeah, but he was also already famous then." Gaz pointed out. "Whatever, you knocked him up, _ you _deal with it."

Dib sunk down in his seat. "Gee, thanks."

Zim tugged at Dib's shirt. "I have some spare rooms… once we disinfected you, you could stay there."

Dib turned to him. "That's… really nice of you, actually, but I'm sure it'll be fine." He stood up, dumping the rest of his breakfast in the sink and watched the milk swirl down the drain. "Come on, let's go."

Dib grabbed his coat out of the front closet- he'd had to get twelve different trench coats over the years from various incidents. Seven had involved Zim. He checked the pockets- yep, his wallet was still in there. He pushed the door open, Zim scurrying through it.

"So, we'll need clothes, a crib, probably some toys…" Dib started counting off on his fingers. "Maybe some food? I don't know how long that stuff would last. You can't breastfeed, right?"

"You're really asking that?" Zim grimaced.

"I'll take that as a no." Dib held out his hands. "Let me see those coupons." Zim passed them over, and Dib rifled through them. "Okay, this is just for furniture, this one's for toys… fast food… oh, we can use this one, this one, maybe this one… this one's just cut out of the comics page."

"I can make the crib. I'd rather it can hover so I can carry it around."

"That's… not a bad idea, actually," Dib admitted. "But you're really loud, wouldn't that wake it up?"

Zim grinned. "Soundproofing shield. I used one on Gir's doghouse in the lower base."

"Why do you even have a doghouse inside the base? It's not like anyone is going to see it."

"Gir insisted," Zim mumbled, and Dib smirked.

"He's got you wrapped around his little finger."

"He does not! It was a simple matter of sliding blueprints into the computer and having it build it, it was _ much _easier than listening to him whine."

"Sure, sure." Dib said, hands stuffed into his coat's pockets. "I don't know how differently I would have turned out of my dad hadn't pretty much let me raise myself from the age of six. Less neurotic, probably. Being a little indulgent probably a good trait to have with a baby. "

"Of course it's good," Zim puffed his chest out.

"Although it _is _you, so constant exposure might mess them up," Dib added, and Zim let out a little annoyed hiss.

Dib ruffled his wig, knocking it slightly askew, and Zim hurriedly straightened it. "Maybe you should get a new wig- or a coat. People are going to look at you weird the further along you get. That, or they'll think you're a girl."

Zim scoffed. "I am _ not _ a girl_. _I'll dig out my old alternate disguise."

"The brown coat? That'll probably work." Dib thought for a moment. "My offer to lend you some of my old stuff is still on the table. It's probably looser than your uniform and we _ did _used to be about the same size. Most of it's buried in the back of my closet."

"Not on your life." Zim turned up his face away from Dib, as if the very idea was a smelly dead fish. They walked in relative quiet for a minute before Zim groaned.

"Ugh, stupid weight… can't even use my legs in the middle of the street…"

Dib quirked an eyebrow. "Tired already?"

"What's it to you?"

"There's a bench over there, we can sit down. You walked over to my house, right?"

Zim hugged himself. "You don't need to coddle me."

"I've got the whole day free, it's okay. We're going to be walking around in the mall."

Zim let out a long groan before stomping over and slumping down on the bench. He kicked his feet as Dib sat down next to him. "I hate this… this… being weak-y."

"You're not weak, just annoying sometimes." Dib nudged him. "Almost halfway through anyways, right?"

Zim huffed. "It better be. If your humanness makes it take longer, you're target practice for the new cheese gun I'm testing out."

"Cheese gun?"

"It turns things into cheese. Much more humiliating than simply being disassembled, no?"

"Yeah, that _is_ worse." Dib leaned back. "Any other new side effects that have popped up yet?"

Zim shook his head. "Nothing that I can't handle."

"That's good. I still can't believe it started moving the other day."

"It felt like a swarm of bugs in my spooch," Zim said. "It couldn't be more than one, could it?" He sat still for a moment, and Dib saw his Pak briefly flash once. "Good, it's only one."

"Throws out my ideas for naming them Dib and Zim Junior." Dib laughed, but Zim tapped his chin.

"Zim Junior, eh?"

"Zim, I'm kidding. I'm not inflicting that on a poor helpless kid."

"No, no, I like it."

"We're not naming the kid 'Zim junior'!'"

"Zim two?"

"That's even worse!"

"You're no fun, do you know that?"

Dib tilted his head up to the sky, feeling the back of his skull brush the top of the bench. "We _ do _need to think of names at some point though. Can your Pak tell you if it's a boy or a girl?"

Zim thought for a moment. "Not yet."

"Okay, maybe we can just pick one of each then."

"Zim _is_ quite gender-neutral."

"We're _not_ naming them after you!"

"Miz is good too-"

"Okay, naming conversation over until you're done with the ego-trip."

Zim just gave Dib a wide grin.


	18. Mall Crawl

A/N: Remember, I'm posting a chapter a day- I think when I posted three at one time a while back some people accidentally skipped the first two because the view count ended up a lot higher on the third one, so make sure you aren't missing any!

* * *

After Zim's brief stop, they continued to the mall. Zim kicked at a pigeon that almost tripped him and Dib had to stop to take a picture of a squirrel that was patterned like a skunk, but it was otherwise uneventful- at least until they reached the parking lot.

A car was backing out, but Zim was ranting on to Dib about how the weasels refused to enter the sewer system when he tried to drop them off and didn't notice it. Dib only noticed half a second before it would have hit them and yanked Zim out of the way. "Hey, watch where you're going, jerk!" He looked down at Zim to make sure he hadn't been brushed by it. Zim was in wide-eyed shock for a moment before immediately whipping out a laser pistol and melting the back end of the car to a heap of steaming metal. _ "Zim!" _

"What? They almost hit me!"

They heard screaming, and Dib practically dragged Zim across the blacktop as he ran towards the mall entrance. "This is why I don't take you anywhere, you know!"

"They almost _ hit _me!" Zim emphasized as the doors opened in front of them. He glanced back to see a woman kicking at the side of her vehicle before starting to run towards them. "Faster- hey!"

Dib decided to cut out trying to scrape out the soles out of Zim's boots when tugging him along and scooped Zim up instead, rushing through a cluster of Girly Rangers and dodging a splash of water from a kid who was chucking coins into the fountain like they were baseballs before ducking into the nearby Hawt Talk. Zim was glaring up at him. "When I said faster, I meant _ move _faster, not pick me up like a bag of-"

"Your legs are tiny, she might have caught us." Dib said, before shoving a hand over Zim's mouth and sinking into the hoodies decorated after animes. The woman was stomping past the entrance, glancing into every one of the stores.

Zim licked Dib's hand, slimy tongue soaking the palm almost immediately, and Dib nearly yelped, glaring down at him. "Quit it!" He squeezed Zim against him, and the irken squirmed around, shaking the fabric around them like a beehive had been thrown in the middle of the rack.

The woman poked her head in, but winced at the loud rock music and passed Hawt Talk over to check for them elsewhere. Dib released Zim's mouth, wiping his hand on his shirt. "You're gross, you know that?"

"Am not!" Zim wiggled his way out of Dib's loosened grip. "Now, if I remember right, the infant things are across the way. Gir used to like the pacifiers."

"...Not gonna ask." Dib stood up, glancing at the employee balanced precariously on a ladder trying to put up a box of figurines. They didn't seem to have noticed him. "Alright, let's-"

"Look at this!" Zim was rummaging through the jewelry.

"Zim, you don't even have ears, what would you do with earrings?"

"Not those, this one!" It was a silver necklace with a little vial full of purple glitter on the end. Zim held it up, letting it swing like a pendulum. "I want it."

"Seriously? You don't strike me as a necklace sort of guy."

"It's sparkly."

"Sparkly," Dib said flatly, but Zim was turning it over in his hands. "Fine, how much is it?"

"Ten dollars."

Dib pulled out his wallet, rifling through it. He had about four hundred dollars in it, so that was probably fine. "Alright, here. At least you didn't just run off with it." He handed over a ten and two ones for tax, and Zim practically flounced over to the counter.

"You! Wage-slave!"

"Yeah?" The girl turned around, nearly falling off the ladder as she did before descending. "Did you find everything okay?"

"Yes, yes, it was fine." Zim shoved the money at her.

"Okay, I just need to scan it." Zim held the tiny vial protectively for a moment before reluctantly allowing her to scan it and give it back. "That'll be $11.10." She picked up the money Zim had dropped on the counter, and Dib noticed how the streak of blonde in her hair had started growing out, leaving a patch of brown near the top of her skull as she counted out the change. "Alright, there's your change, ninety cents. Have a nice day."

Zim pulled the necklace over his head, smiling to himself as he watched the light filter through the small vial while Dib tucked the change back into his wallet.

"Are you ready to actually get what we _ need _now?" Dib asked, and Zim crossed his arms.

"Fine, fine." Zim scanned across the mall, over the heads of the other patrons. "Are there carts here?"

Dib shook his head. "No, but we probably won't get anything really heavy. I'll come back when I have the car. Right now we're just looking for clothes and stuff for the room." He pulled out the coupon book, steering into the nearest shop that had baby clothes. Zim immediately made a beeline for the rack full of pink clothes, grabbing one that had little lace on the collar that kind of looked like his uniform.

Dib rummaged around in the boy's clothes, finding a green bodysuit that had a cute little dinosaur on it and a red one that said 'just arrived' with a typical Grey design under a ufo. He picked out a few simple blue and a few purple ones, while Zim looked around on the opposite side of the store.

They met at the display table in front of the register. Zim had grabbed four different shirts in various states of pink, (one with a unicorn) and glanced over Dib's choices. "Hmm… not bad."

Dib waved the little alien one in front of him, Zim stared it for a moment before starting to laugh.

"I'll take that as you liking it?"

"I'll allow it," Zim snickered, and Dib grinned as he rummaged through the coupons.

"I mean, it'll be true." He pulled out a pair that would take ten dollars off and dumped the heap on the counter. The employee started to scan through them.

"Is there anything else?"

"I think that's it for here," Dib said, handing over the coupons, and the man just shrugged and scanned them too, piling the clothes into a single bag before taking Dib's money.

"Okay, so we'll want toys next," Dib said. "I have no idea where those are." He walked over to the mall's map, squinting as he scanned over the glowing image.

"Second floor," Zim said, spotting it first. He wrapped his fingers around Dib's wrist, starting to march off at a brisk pace. Dib stumbled a little, Zim's iron grip forcing him to bend slightly before he matched the irken's speed.

"You're going to have to keep these from Gir," Dib warned, but Zim just made a 'pssssh' sound.

"I know how to hide things."

"I can just keep this stuff in my room, actually, I don't use two of the lower dresser drawers."

"The less you clutter up my base, the better," Zim said, trying to locate the toy store.

"The map said it was next to Target Practice."

"I know, don't- ah, there!" Zim nearly dislocated Dib's shoulder as he turned and started towards the right shop. He nearly knocked over a kid playing on his phone on the way, and Dib threw back an apology as they entered the store.

There was music playing that was obnoxiously cheery and that Dib pretty much immediately hated, but there was a section for 'newborn to two' near the front, so he supposed he couldn't complain too much. Zim picked up a large pair of plastic keys, shaking them so they clacked together.

"What are these for? They don't look like they'd fit any lock."

"I'unno, colors maybe?" Dib said, looking over the shelf. "This one looks cool." It was a dragonfly with four differently-patterned wings and little flaps to open and close. Zim scoffed.

"I don't know what you consider cool, but- ooh!" There was a large plush bee, and Zim poked it. "Hm, knowing your enemy can be a good tactical defense…"

"Sure, we can get the bee," Dib said, bemused, picking up the dragonfly as well as a soft rattle.

Zim insisted on examining each individual thing in the section, but the only other one he liked was a cloth play-area with little knobs and buttons, as well as a tiny mirror on one side. Dib grabbed a stacking ring toy as well, paying for it and adding the bags to his arms. Zim only carried the stuffed bee, but pretended to be tired when Dib tried to pass him one of the other bags. (And Dib _ knew _it was pretending from how perky the rest of him was, but it wasn't worth the loss of energy an argument would cause.)

They spotted the lady still searching for them when they left the store, but Zim held up his bee and Dib tried to flatten his hair, bags in front of his face, and she huffed and headed for the exit, presumably in defeat.

"What's that smell?" Zim asked, and Dib sniffed the air.

"I think we're by the food court."

"I want snacks."

Dib pulled his wallet out. "I think I've got enough left, just try not to go crazy with-" Zim snatched the money and took off before Dib could even finish his sentence. Dib trudged after him. "Great, of course he leaves me to carry everything, that little…" He flexed his fingers in the air, as if pretending to strangle Zim, but stared when Zim came back only a minute later with a pair of churros, handing half of one to Dib. "Oh, uh… thanks. Was there no line or did you skip?"

"Wouldn't you like to know?"

"Okay, so you skipped." Dib took a bite- it was nice and warm. Well, there were worse evils in the world.

Besides, seeing the smile on Zim's face as he licked up the cinnamon sugar was worth it.


	19. Building a Pak

Zim never much liked working with a power cord in his Pak. Yes, it was supposed to help stabilize the Pak and connect to the power of the building's computer so raw data could be processed faster, but it also anchored him to about a five foot radius, which was _ very _annoying to someone who preferred moving as he worked.

"Hmm." He'd made a practice Pak shell, carved from a scrubbed-clean soda can, but the intricate pieces were more fiddly than he'd been expecting, even with the faster reflexes using the cord. Nothing but another challenge. He'd already procured a pair of standard Pak shells for when he was ready. He'd gotten two in case of an accident- one that was likely to be named Gir.

"Let's see… the atmospheric stabilizer goes here, and the translator…" Zim used robot fingers to set the pieces into place, before switching functions to a small probe cracking with electricity. He nudged the practice Pak with it, and it sparked. Then, he dropped a little mouse into the case, and it sniffed at the Pak. Zim used the little robot fingers to pick up the Pak and grinned when it wound out wires to attach to the mouse's back. The mouse let out a scared squeak.

"Now, life!" He slammed the lever forward, and a vault of lightning arched towards the mouse. It let out a cry, but other than being singed and a few hairs smoking, it was still alive- and more importantly, the Pak was glowing. "Victory! Now I just need to- wah!" The Pak shot off the mouse's back and directly at Zim's face, and swatting it away ended with a burnt hand and the tiny tech scattered in pieces over the floor. He scrubbed between his eyes, feeling a patch of burn marks. "Stupid…!"

"Wha'izzit?" Gir poked his head into the lab, holding a tray of bread that was haphazardly stuck together with something yellow. "I made sandwiches!"

"How do the smeetery workers _ do _it? I thought they passed that to mind-controlled slaves, if they can do it, so can I!"

"Do what?"

"Make Paks!" Zim walked over to pick up the pieces, but the cord yanked him to a stop before he could reach. "Gah-! Fine, I'll do it on my own." He clicked the cord and it retracted back into the ceiling of the lab. "There was just something wrong with this equipment, I've got two more tries." He brushed himself off, bending down to pick up the shell and the pieces, and could feel the bottom of his stomach brushing the very top of his thighs. Boy, did _ that _feel weird. There was a faint squeak as the test mouse leapt off the table and scurried away.

"Ooh, lemme get that!" Gir danced over, scooping up a few tiny pieces of metal.

"No, Gir, I need that! Ugh, it's all dirty from the floor already, and- is that orange soda?" Gir smelled of something citrus-y, and Zim could hear sloshing from inside his head.

Gir nodded. "Two cans of it!"

"Remind me to ban Dib from bringing over Earth soda, it's disgusting."

"Nah, I won't."

Zim looked at the pieces cupped in his gloves. His thumb ran over the curve of the handmade shell. "Who knows it if will even fit- if I make it too small, what if it chokes out the spooch?"

Gir tilted his head. "Inside hug?"

"No, Gir, that wouldn't be an inside hug, it would just kill it. It would be a huge waste." He set the pieces back into the case, leaning on the ledge with his elbow, smushing a cheek in his hand. He could feel his stomach weighing him down, ever so slightly. "Pak, analyze smeet's size and growth pattern."

_ "Smeet is growing zzzt continuous rate. Limbs are growing zzzt,, as well as the start of antennae. Weight is 0.532 units. Length is zzzt. Progress towards birth is 42.564 percent." _

Zim jolted. "That's over a pound, and if it goes past four months...!" He groaned. "I'll need to make the Pak completely from scratch, there's no way it's going to fit if this is how far it is already. Stupid Dib, with his stupid big genes and… and… _ humanness _."

"But I like humanness," Gir piped in.

"You're not supposed to." Zim drummed his fingers against his cheek. "I'll just have to analyze the shells and make larger versions from the start. I can't risk stealing one of the returns without it rejecting the smeet for not being entirely irken. Great, this is just more work!" He grabbed his welding goggles and snapped them on his forehead, waving a hand at Gir. "Leave the sandwiches here and go get the pillow from the couch. The pink- it's- oh, you know the one."

Gir saluted. "Yes, sir!" He ran out of the room, and from the loud crashes he knocked over several things on the way. Zim swiped one of the sandwiches, sniffing at it. It was hard to tell colors in the lab sometimes, but it didn't smell poisoned… further inspection showed it had a scent of sweetness, in fact. Zim gave it an experimental lick.

"Mm…" He took a bite- the substance was sticky, but tasted delicious. After a moment, he identified it as honey. He gingerly picked up three pieces of bread- really, it was just toast, not sandwiches- and took a bite. Gir was being surprisingly thoughtful, getting him one of his favorite treats.

That, or it was just the first thing the little robot grabbed, but it didn't hurt to think he'd been competent for once. Zim finished all three pieces, feeling marginally better. He left the rest for Gir- after the waffle incident years back, he'd learned never to finish a plate Gir brought if it had more than four pieces on it, unless he wanted to be forced to have more. This way, Gir would just cry for a few minutes, eat it himself, then forget about it. He licked the honey off his gloves before tossing them into the laundry chute and pulling another pair on. Adjusting the goggles, he took a breath before pulling out the pair of smeet Pak cases.

He had work to do.

Four hours later, Dib walked in on Zim slumped over the case, heart skipping a beat before he saw the irken's back slowly rising and falling with each breath. Zim's arms were settled on a pillow, and Dib smiled, shaking his head as he crossed the room. "I really need to find a way to get you to stop- wuah?"

One of the tools had been left on, sending a small shower of sparks over all the now-half-melted pieces. Most of the materials in the case were glowing with heat, and he could hear a ticking noise. Dib's eyes widened, and he tugged Zim back moments before there was a cough of an explosion- it was partially contained by the case itself, but if he hadn't moved Zim, it probably would have taken an eye out. Zim jolted, wiping the drool off his mouth. "Huh?"

"You can't just fall asleep with something on like that!" Dib patted Zim down. "What if I'd been late today, huh? Huh? You could have gotten hurt, or fallen on your stomach or something!"

"I could have regrown… oh!" Zim stood straight up, running over to the case. "It better not have gotten all of the- the-" He sucked in a breath. There were Pak pieces that were only a bit dented, but others were completely unidentifiable. "Well. They won't be speaking to any Vortians any time soon."

"What? What were you doing, anyways?"

"I was making a Pak, what does it look like?" Zim nervously twitched his left antenna. "Those were my last set of miniature translators and weapons implants…"

Dib winced. "That's… not good. What can you salvage?"

Zim carefully sorted through it, smoke still rising from the pieces. "There's the atmospheric processor, and…. oh, good, the self-destruct survived."

"We're not putting a self-destruct in a _ baby! _"

"What? It's useful if they ever get caught, since they have-" Zim blinked. "Oh. Well, I can always just add it back in when they get older."

"No. No self-destruct. The processor is probably all that they really need."

"But they need a supercomputer to help them process all of the information they need to develop an identity. I can even try to fix some of the mistakes in the history book that was given to me, so they don't have to waste space."

Dib blinked. "Develop- wait. You said something before. Were you just… _ you _, right after you got your Pak?"

Zim nodded. "Of course- once my Pak downloaded everything it needed, I was sent off to training." He had the feeling Dib would get all picky about him bringing up Painful Overload Day.

"Oh, wow. That's… really convenient, actually. But can you even _ do _that from here?"

** "I can encode a name, but anything else is too fiddly. The computers at the smeeteries are nerds, they're good at it because it's all they do," **The computer chimed in.

"Ugh, really?" Zim grumbled. "Fine, we can teach it the hard way. At least that way I can make sure they know what's important."

"Right." Dib sighed. "Anyways, I'm going to try and talk to Dad tomorrow. If I can, I'll start bringing work here. You've still got that spare room, and…"

"Which spare room?"

"The one that Gir hung those boy band posters in."

Zim shuddered. "It's yours."

Dib rubbed the back of his neck. "I think it'll be best to move in for a while, even if he is fine with this. I know he likes you, but…"

"He does, doesn't he?" Zim grinned.

"Anyways, I was going to say it'll be easier to monitor you the next two months if I don't keep going home most nights."

"_Monitor _ me?" Zim crossed his arms.

Dib held up his hands. "Look, I can have more than one reason to want to be closer to you right now, okay? I want to make sure you're both okay, but also… okay, I want to get as many notes as I can. I'm not going to send them to anyone, cross my heart."

Zim stared at Dib for a few more moments, watching the beads of sweat beginning to form on his forehead, before nodding.

"Fine. But you're not allowed to bring any human soda. Gir got into your last supply."

Dib groaned.


	20. Daddy Dearest

Dib took a deep breath, clicking the top snap of his lab coat nervously. He usually didn't wear it to work since he tended to work more in tech, but he wanted to try and stay on Dad's good side today. He'd actually threatened to cut Dib off his part of the bank account once when he'd been up for 40 straight hours, and his schedule said he'd been at work for about 14 now. That had been nerve-wracking- and kind of sad. Dib had been up for longer and had never snapped at anyone besides Zim. (Well, he thought. His memory got a bit fuzzy after hour 30 most of the time.)

Zim had been about to take Gir on a walk when he'd left. He'd given Dib a dismissive wave and told him he would have to bring his bags in himself. Jerk. They'd had a good battle with Makio the dragon-slaying plumber earlier on the console Zim had almost certainly stolen from a neighbor, and Dib had beaten Zim pretty thoroughly. That might be why he'd been kind of pissy, actually…

Right. Back to the present. Dib headed up to the front door. Honestly, it was worth it working there if only because the guards always let him in right away now. A few of them had called him 'professor', though, so it was probably them thinking he was Dad, but it was the thought that counted. Dib headed up the stairs, practicing his speech to himself.

"Okay, Dad, I know you were talking about branching me out to different branches of science, and it kind of happened on accident, but- no, no, that's dumb. Hey, Dad, you know Zim? Well, he was an idiot alien like usual, and- ugh, no. So, Dad, you know you you wanted me to help with that genetics project? Well, I took the initiative and you're going to be a grandpa." Dib sighed, tugging a hand through his hair. "Grandpa… geez. Better save that. Would the kid even _ be _a Membrane? It's not like Zim has a real last name, but we're not married or anything anyways."

Absently, he wondered if he and Zim would both wear suits if they were to get married or if Zim would wear a dress. Zim _ had _worn a dress to prom, but it had looked like a slightly longer version of his uniform so that wasn't the best judge. Meh. It wasn't worth the hassle anyways. It would just be a pain to do the paperwork.

"Okay. Just need to… walk right in there, go talk to him, and tell him I'm moving out and that I'm going to be staying with Zim. If that goes good I can bring up the kid." He leaned against the railing, looking down. He'd climbed about five flights- running around so much made the stairs easy. He remembered chasing Gaz around on these very stairs when they were little enough that Dad brought them to work, but now but they were half-derelict due to the number of elevators in the building.

Dust gathered in the corners, and a thin film coated the tiny windows on the doors. If he didn't know there was a bustling lab behind them, he'd think he was back in one of his old favorite haunted houses. The fact that a month ago at work he'd been chasing after the ghosts of a few dozen mice, whose intelligence had been enhanced enough to have unfinished business that qualified them for ghosthood, didn't help dispel the illusion either. For a place so focused on 'a better everything', they sure needed to focus on getting a better janitor. Dib straightened up, taking one more breath before walking over to the door and pushing it open.

Dad had a whole level of the lab to himself- part of it was where he filmed his show, but most of it was where he tinkered with personal projects that he didn't trust anyone else to not break. Dib had only ever learned what a handful of them were.

When he pushed the door to the 'LAB OF THE MAINBRANE' open, the figure inside turned, goggles practically glinting in the light. "Ah, there you are, son! You wanted to talk to me?"

"Yeah, I made an appointment yesterday morning." Dib said, drumming his fingers against his hip. The lab coat felt stuffy, and he undid the top snap. "I was thinking of… moving out."

"Moving out? Oh, right, you're an adult now! 19, right?"

"Still 18, Dad."

"Of course, of course! I suppose I should have expected this. Independence is certainly something to strive for." His tone was light. "But what of your sister? She still needs a guardian for when I'm busy."

"Gaz can take care of herself. She makes her own food most of the time, and she's turning eighteen in a few months. Besides, you still come home, and she has my number if she needs anything."

"Was there a reason for this?" Membrane turned his back to Dib, and sparks light up his silhouette. Dib swallowed.

"Okay, so, you know Zim?"

"Your boyfriend? What about him? I've told you, you should get him to come work here, he has a real talent!"

Dib sighed. "He's an alien, which I've said a million times but you probably won't believe no matter what at this point. Just because we're together doesn't mean I want him to have access to the labs, he _ still _hasn't really made up for the bracelet thing. I don't want him getting any Earth-conquering ideas if he pokes around in here."

"I don't know why you continue to insist on this, even after you've clearly gotten over your silly little feud-" Membrane started without turning around, and Dib folded his arms, fingers digging into the fabric of the lab coat.

"He's having a kid."

"Oh." Membrane turned back around to stare at Dib through his goggles. There was a moment's pause, during which the uncomfortable crawling of his skin went so deep Dib was pretty sure every cell in his body fried itself before rebooting. "Is it yours?"

"Yeah."

"Ah. Well, congratulations, new life is exciting! You are a bit young, but he certainly seems capable if a bit eccentric. Are you two making it through cloning?"

Dib's iron grip on his own arms relaxed a bit. "No, he's having it the normal way."

"There is no normal way, only the common way and the scientific one!" Membrane clapped a hand on Dib's shoulder. "Taking responsibility, that's my boy!"

Dib straightened up a little. "I was going to ask… is there any way I could start bringing work home? I want to- er, make sure he's okay, so I'll be rooming with him for a while."

Membrane narrowed his eyes. "You aren't trying to slide out of doing your job, are you? I know how you can get with him. You remember what I-"

Dib swallowed. "No, this way Zim can help. He's good at that sort of thing, you know that. I was considering switching to the biology sector soon anyways, I can just finish up work on the firefighter bot and whatever else is left before doing that. Zim does lots of experiments with animals, we can figure out something and just bring back progress every few days or something."

Membrane stroked his chin. "Hm. As long as you still get results, I suppose I don't see why not."

Dib grinned. "Thank you! I promise I won't let you down." He tugged open the top of the coat, allowing himself to breathe. "Besides, this way I can work at my own pace. I did better when I was just fiddling with stuff at home in high school, you know?"

"That's why I insisted you come here in the first place." Membrane brushed a hand through Dib's hair. "Of course you're talented, you were just wasting it on foolish little fantasies before."

Dib's heart twisted, like it was being wrung out like a towel. "They weren't fantasies. I'm _ literally _dating an alien right now."

"That's not a nice term to use, you know."

Dib stuffed his hands in his pockets, feeling the lint gathered in the fabric lining and rolling it between his fingers like a worry stone. "I'll get whatever I need from Simmons. I'll still have my phone if you need me."

"That sounds just fine." He clapped Dib on the back hard enough to almost make him stumble. "Do send me pictures, I'll want to see my grandchild!"

"Yeah… I will." Dib said, head swiveling to try and figure what had just started whistling behind him. When he turned back, a folder of notes the size of his head had been shoved at him.

"These were the notes I had taken while you were an infant. Some of it may not apply since it was specifically about cloning, but you might find it useful."

Dib pulled out a random sheet. "Ideal neurological stimulation?"

"That was finding out what would be the best way to keep you entertained while learning the most."

Dib hugged the folder. "Thanks. This will definitely help." He paused for a beat. "Wait. Did you just _ have _this in your office?"

"The bottom two drawers are the files I kept in case I ever decided to make more children. I didn't want them to get lost."

"Oh. Okay." He couldn't imagine having more younger siblings. Gaz was definitely enough. Although a younger brother could have been cool…

"I'll… see you later, then."

"Tell me how it goes!" Membrane nodded at him, and the way the top of the coat wrinkled, Dib thought he was smiling. It was always hard to tell.

When he hurried down the stairs, though, it was with a slightly lighter chest and paperwork he actually _wanted _to go through.


	21. Moving In

Gaz was eating the leftover chinese he'd been hoping to have for lunch when he got home, dropping the thick file folder on the table with a dusty thump. He coughed, waving at the particles that had blown up with the disruption of their resting place.

"So?" She asked before stuffing more noodles into her mouth.

"So, he was just fine." Dib glanced back at the door, even though Dad was still at work. "I grabbed the blueprints I needed, and I'm officially moving in with Zim for a while. He said to send him pictures."

"Huh." She chewed thoughtfully for a moment. "Do I still get your room?"

"No!"

"Now you're just being selfish." She raised an eyebrow, and he threw up his hands and left. He needed to finish packing.

Four hours later, he had a cooler full of food, three suitcases, and a bag full of equipment loaded into the car. Gaz had given him a half-hearted wave and was absorbed in a game that had a lot of squishy bloody sounds seeking out of the speakers.

"Good luck."

"Thanks. If Dad comes home in the next week, he knows where to find me… he remembers where Zim's house is, right?" There was a moment of silence. "Well, _ you _know where it is. You haven't really needed me to be a guardian since we were kids. Honestly, even then you were pretty good at handling yourself." He adjusted his bag, and she turned to look at him.

"It's not like you're moving across the country or anything. You left the car on, didn't you? I'll call if there's zombies or whatever."

"Yeah, yeah, you're fine." Dib took a deep breath, shifting his backpack. "I'll text you when I'm all set up."

"Mmm." She was still engrossed in the game, and Dib sighed.

"See you later."

"Right."

He made his way out to the car, turning the key in the ignition and taking a deep breath, taking in the house. It looked smaller, somehow.

"It took you long enough." Zim had his arms folded when Dib arrived, the sun setting casting orange and pink shadows over the base.

"I told you it was going to take a while to finish packing." Dib raised an eyebrow. "I'm staying for longer than a night, I need more than just a toothbrush." He grabbed the first bags, and nodded at the base. "Can Minimoose help?"

"I wanna be the carryin' boy!" Gir clapped his hands together, the fabric of his suit muffling it.

"Uh… hmm." Dib handed Gir one of the suitcases that only had clothes in it. "Bring that into the lab, we'll figure out my room from there."

"What's the magic word?"

"Did the computer get you to- ugh. Please?"

"Okie-dokie!" Gir headed inside, costumed ears bouncing as he moved. Dib rubbed the back of his neck.

"Man, this is going to be weird."

"You spend much of your time here anyways, no? This way I will have you around when I need you." Zim said, turning to march into the house. "Finish with your things, there is something to discuss in the lab. Minimoose will assist you."

Dib fumbled with his bags, sighing in relief as the little moose floated to the open car door, levitating a few of the heavier ones.

"Thanks, Minimoose." He got a squeak in reply, one of appreciation for being recognized.

It took Dib about five minutes to bring everything into the living room, cramming it all into the side table elevator to make it in one trip. Minimoose floated beside him, and Gir clung to the suitcase he'd been given as he hopped on top of a different one moments before the elevator had started to descend.

"I wonder what I'd think back when I was eleven if I said I'd be moving into Zim's base," Dib thought aloud. "Think I was nuts, probably. Man, his head probably would just explode if I gave him the whole story." He chuckled, watching the lights flicker as they moved between floors before the door to the lab opened. Zim was pacing, left antenna flicking when he heard Dib entering.

"You will get room 3B. It's the largest unoccupied one. Tell the computer whatever you need."

"Right." Dib set the bags down, gently prying Gir off the suitcase full of his most important research. He looked around. "3B… that's the one across from the one where you spilled the exploding stuff, right?"

"Mhm, yes." Zim nodded, and Dib picked the bags back up, heading for it.

"Back in just a minute." It was good that over the past two years he'd gotten to know the base pretty well- he found it quickly. He dropped his bags down on the bed, and Gir twirled in place, chucking the suitcase he was holding like it was a discus. It hit Dib directly on the stomach, who doubled over with an 'oof!'

Gir giggled. "Gotchya!"

"Y-yeah, you did." Dib grumbled, picking the case up and setting it on the bed next to the others, rubbing his stomach. Minimoose floated the ones he was carrying down as well, and after he regained his breath Dib headed back out to the lab. He could get the rest later. Zim was still pacing when he returned.

"So, what did you want to talk to me about?"

Zim grabbed Dib's wrist, tugging him forward and pressing the palm of his hand to the curve on his stomach. "Do you feel that?"

"Uh, yeah, it's your- oh." There was shifting inside, and Dib grinned. "They're moving again?"

"Yes, and the more it moves, the faster I get drained of energy." Zim grumped. "I normally only have to recharge once a week, but now even with sleep I've had to twice."

"That probably means they're healthy. We're over halfway, after all."

"Forty three percent."

"Huh?"

"My Pak says it's forty-three percent built. It's going to be more than four months." Zim crossed his arms, and Dib rubbed his thumb against the fabric of Zim's uniform.

"So it's a few days longer. At least it isn't nine months, like a human would be."

"It's still longer than I thought it would be." Zim tapped his index finger against his arm.

"I didn't give Dad a timeline. I can probably stay here as long as I need to." Dib's followed the little nudges with his palm. "Oh man, I never made a log about them moving, did I?"

"Not unless you didn't involve me," Zim said, and Dib pulled away, grabbing his phone out of his pocket. By the time he'd looked back up, Zim had produced his wig and contacts from… somewhere. Dib was pretty sure he kept a pair in his Pak.

"Okay, log… I forgot which number this was. Five? Four? I think it was four. Man, I was _really _slacking on these, sorry. Anyways, they started moving a few days ago! Zim says they're not quite halfway done yet, but that's fine, more time to figure out what's happening. Oh, and I've moved in with Zim, to be able to monitor him from up close, something he's very excited about." Dib grinned before turning the camera to Zim, who had his eyes narrowed.

"You're here because you're more useful to me that way."

"You said it yourself- it's not like I'm not here most of the time I'm free anyways," Dib said. "Don't be such a sourpuss. I will have to unpack, but I actually felt them moving around just a minute ago. Zim says the more they move around, the more tired he gets, so maybe as this gets further along he'll just start laying around. I'll make him easier to keep track of."

"I will not!"

"Didn't the computer say something like that anyways? That you were going to need help by the end?"

**"I did."**

"Whose side are you on?" Zim glared daggers at the ceiling.

**"What? It's true."**

"No more vacation days for you!"

**"I'm a house, how can I- oh, never mind."**

"Okay, Zim, shirt up." Dib shifted so he was standing directly next to Zim, and Zim gave a huffy sigh before pulling the shirt up. The curve to his abdomen was more pronounced now, and Dib noticed little white lines. "Wait, are those stretch marks?"

"Yes, but they're going away as soon as this is done." Zim said. "Right now my Pak refuses to use energy healing them."

Dib knelt down, moving his fingertips over them. "Huh, they're slightly indented into the skin, but on closer look they're just really light green."

Zim pushed Dib's head away. "Okay, enough admiring my form, is there anything else?"

Dib adjusted his glasses, knocked askew by Zim's shove at his face. "I think that's it for now." He held the camera back up. "I have to go unpack, so… end of month two, Dib out."


	22. I Want My Breadsticks!

After a long night trying to catch up on the paranormal forums he'd been neglecting the past few weeks, Dib was trying to figure out how to get his laptop plugged into the weird alien sockets when he heard yelling from the ground floor.

He was in his room by the lab, and he heard the yelling from the _ground floor _.

Boy, was this going to take some getting used to. He headed for the elevator, trench coat settled comfortably over his shoulders. It was nice, being able to wear it more again now that he didn't have "dress codes" because the lab "isn't for people who look like circus hobos, son!". The coat was cool. He liked the coat.

"So, what's he yelling about now? Ground floor… please." Dib looked up as he got into the elevator, and the computer made a huffy, annoyed sigh.

**"Pizza."**

"Pizza?"

**"You'll see." **The elevator began to move, and Dib stretched.

"Well, I'm going to have to get used to this, aren't I? I can probably knock out those robots for Dad in a couple of days, then focus on keeping track of Zim's progress. Has he started complaining about his shirt getting too tight yet? It kind of looks like it."

**"Not yet." **

"It lets me see how far along he is pretty easily, at least. Unless he's going to start walking around shirtless, it's good for me and my notes," Dib chuckled as the elevator opened, and Zim's volume increased by about five times. Dib's hands flew up to his ears, but even muffled he could make out the words now. There was a freckly girl at the door who couldn't have been older than 17 with wide eyes and tears beading in her eyes.

"YOU ALWAYS FORGET THE EXTRA CHEESE, AND IT'S A GREASY MESS, AND YOU'VE OVERCHARGED ME THREE TIMES, AND NOW YOU WON'T TAKE GIR'S COUPON, AND-"

"Zim!" Dib hurried across the living room. "Leave her alone!"

"SHE FORGOT THE BREADSTICKS!" Zim just whirled around to yell at Dib at the same volume, and Dib winced.

"Are you sure you ordered them?"

"GIR WAS SUPPOSED-"

"You really trust him over the minimum wage kid at the door?"

"YES!"

"Well, you shouldn't. He's terrible at a lot of things." Dib dug into his pocket and handed the girl a twenty dollar bill. "Just go before he gets his second wind."

She nodded frantically like a bobblehead that had been smacked by an eager kindergartner and ran for her car. Zim took a step forward to run after her, but Dib grabbed him by the back of his collar, yanking him back before picking him up and getting nearly kicked in the groin.

"RELEASE ME!" He practically roared, and Dib winced- ugh, Zim was all sweaty, he'd almost forgotten he got like that when he was all worked up. Nasty.

"Look, she can't really fix it. Maybe if you were actually at the restaurant, but she's only got what they give her. Where's the pizza?"

"Gir already took it."

"See? Then _he_ doesn't care."

Zim huffed. "He should!" He tried to pry himself out of Dib's grip, but his Pak's ports were inaccessible, pinned against Dib's chest as they were.

"Where _is_ Gir, anyways?" Dib tried to look around, but Zim bit Dib's arm. Unfortunately for him, all he got was a mouthful of leather. "Hey, don't do that you little- I just got this cleaned!"

"Don't stop me from carrying out my very _justified _revenge, then!" Zim said, slumping down a little in a pout. His wig shifted on his head, and Dib heard him take a deep breath and fall limp. Dib counted a few beats before allowing Zim to slide out of his arms like a cat. The girl was long gone by now, anyway. Zim's face sort of wrinkled, before he tugged his wig off, antennae twitching in the air.

"Feeling less homicidal?" Dib raised an eyebrow, but Zim kicked the door shut before dragging Dib over to the couch and shoving him down. "Hey!" Dib protested as Zim crawled on top of his lap, hands on Dib's shoulders.

"Tell me what you did different today!"

"Huh?"

"You smell… strange." Zim's gaze was even more concentrated than usual, contacts still in and the little lavender pupils seemed to be staring into Dib's very soul.

"Uh… I took a shower before I went to go see Dad yesterday morning. I didn't want to figure out your weird shower yet. I haven't done anything else that would affect that… I had some doritos for breakfast with a bottle of chocolate milk, but-"

"No, no, that wouldn't do it." Zim's left antennae moved a little closer, and he sniffed at the air. He probably had _some_ kind of nose, considering how weirdly obsessed he was with smells, it was just really tiny.

"Is it a good smell?" Dib asked, starting to feel like a spider that was about to get pinned on a display board.

"Yes," Zim said, almost without thinking.

"You said you liked my shirt before," Dib pointed out. Zim's knees were starting to dig into the top of his legs, and when Zim leaned forward, he could feel the stomach bump pressed between them.

"That was nothing, it must have been swept up while cleaning…"

"Zim, it's okay, your body's going through some weird stuff right now." Dib set a hand on Zim's hip, and Zim hissed for a moment before relaxing again. His claws dug into Dib's shoulders.

"How are you _doing _that?"

"I'm not doing anything." Dib slid his hand under the shirt, setting his palm flat against the side of Zim's stomach, and Zim sucked in a breath. "Does that feel weird?"

"It's- how do you keep making my spooch get all icky-hot-twisty?"

Dib grinned. "I'm just that good."

Zim allowed Dib to rub him for a few more seconds before pulling away. "When did you last wash your hands?"

"Uh, maybe a few hours ago?"

Zim rubbed his uniform shirt against his skin. "If I get more marks because of your greasy fingerprints-"

"Geez, Zim, I'm not contagious or anything."

Zim rolled off Dib, sitting next to him. "I don't want more marks than necessary."

"I'm not going to make any marks unless I press down really hard. I don't think dirt can even do that, and my hands are fine, you're just a germaphobe."

"I am not!" Zim grabbed Dib's hand. "Your hands are all sweaty, and now it's on my skin!"

"Humans produce oil, it's just-"

"It's just disgusting, that's what it is." Zim huffed. "Go wash your hands."

Dib rolled his eyes. "I'm not going to do that every ten minutes for you, just so you know. That would really mess up my hands."

"Not my problem."

Dib wiped his palms off on his pants. Okay, maybe they were _kind of _sweaty, but Zim had been so close, and maybe Dib liked the feeling of being examined by him a little-

Zim grabbed his hand again, sliding his own into it. "Acceptable, for now."

Dib stared at him, before noticing the way his antennae were half-flat against his head, and his cheeks were dotted with a flush. He smiled.

"Alright, if you just wanted an excuse to hold hands, I'm game."

"I don't need an excuse!" Zim protested.

"So, did you want any of that pizza, or was it for Gir?"

"I wanted breadsticks. The pizza was for both of you."

"I'm not eating anything Gir's had for the last ten minutes. I can call them and order a small one and breadsticks. I'll even tell them to leave the butter off."

"Perhaps it's good you moved in after all. You're paying."

"As if you don't usually mooch off me anyways."

Dib pretended not to notice when Zim leaned against his arm as he dialed the number, although he did rub the top of his head and Zim didn't protest, snuggling a little closer.


	23. Kissy-Face

A/N: I accidentally copied the wrong text into the last chapter, so if you read it soon after I put it up and it didn't involve the pizza delivery, it was a copy of chapter 21, not the proper chapter 22. Sorry, it's fixed now! Also, this is as far as this fic gets into the T rating.

* * *

"Dib."

"Hmm?"

"Diiiiiib."

"What?" Dib shifted his butt to keep it from getting cold on the lab floor and looked up from the robot kitten he was adjusting the screws on. Zim had slid off his chair, kicking aside the scattered wrappers from a Halloween candy sale he'd insisted on going to. (They were lucky they weren't banned for life when Zim had ripped open a bag of gummy worms before they'd even been paid for. He had thrown a fit when the employees had started yelling at him for it, nearly giving one of them a black eye. Dib wasn't sure if it was a mood swing or just Zim being Zim, half the time.)

"Dib." Zim climbed up on Dib's lap then picked up the kitten and tossed it into the air. It gave an annoyed 'mrrryew!' and stalked away into the hallway. Dib reached out for it, but Zim had firmly settled his knees on top of Dib's legs. Dib glared at him as it disappeared around the corner.

"Hey, Dad said he wanted these on the market by next month, so I need to get this one fin-mmph!" Zim had grabbed his cheeks, smushing them together and forcing Dib to make fish-lips.

"Quiet, Dib-let." Diblet. Okay. Usually he just tacked on an insult or an adjective, but that one almost sounded like a pet name.

"Mm?" Dib scanned over Zim. He was slightly flushed, but didn't seem to be out of the ordinary otherwise-

He pulled Dib into a kiss. Dib's eyes widened for a moment, before they fell shut as he concentrated on the hot breath in his mouth and how Zim's lips felt against his own. Zim let his hands slip, falling to Dib's shoulders and holding them tightly. He leaned closer as if he could engulf Dib if they pressed close enough, the hard curve of his stomach between them.

Dib dropped the screwdriver he was holding, fingers settling on Zim's hips. It felt like it had been ages. They didn't kiss often- it was fun, but Zim usually didn't like it going on too long because his tongue always needed to recover from the saliva. It was more exploratory, trying to find out what each other liked, which parts were sensitive, and how long each of them could go without air. (Dib could go for about two minutes, and Zim some indeterminate amount longer, something he was quite proud of. Stupid Pak that could filter things for him.)

Having Zim _ start _a kiss was a bit of a surprise. Usually, he showed affection in other ways, but this one was wholly human and Zim initiating was certainly nice. His long tongue ran over Dib's lips like he was tasting him, and Dib nibbled on Zim's lower lip in response, digging his fingers into the base of Zim's spine as he did. Zim bucked his hips, giving a groan before pulling back to lick his lips. Pink blood dotted the top of his tongue before it darted back into his mouth, and his antennae were low as he surveyed Dib.

"Well?"

"Well what? You started it." Dib moved a hand up to pet the base of the right antenna, and Zim shuddered at the sensation.

"Well, did you enjoy that?"

"Yeah, of course I did. I've enjoyed it most of the times, except that one where you tried to choke me and didn't realize I was trying to tap out because Gir was playing rap music, and your nails started digging in, and-"

"Yes, yes, I remember!" Zim snapped, and Dib pressed his fingers into the almost rubbery bottom of the antennae he was stroking to try and calm him down. In response, Zim smacked his hand. "Not now, I'm asking you a question."

"Why did you start a kiss anyway? I thought you liked cuddling better." Dib raised an eyebrow. "I'm not complaining, just curious."

Zim crossed his arms. Dib noted with some amusement that he was now big enough that his arms settled on top of his stomach when he did that. "Can't I do whatever I want? You liked it, no?"

"Yeah, I did. If you kiss and I kiss back, you're golden. You know if it gets too much I'll end it by just jabbing you really hard."

Zim rubbed his lower left side upon being reminded of their 'safe action'. "Alright. Alright, good." He shifted again. "It's moving."

Dib set a hand on Zim's stomach. "Oh, wow." It really was- it was like bugs had crawled inside of Zim's skin, almost. He hadn't felt it during the kiss, a little too distracted. "Feeling tired again?"

Zim slid off Dib's lap like he was being poured out of a cup, pooling on the floor and staring up at Dib with the back of his head settled on Dib's thighs. "No. Hot."

"Hot?" Dib laid a hand on Zim's forehead. He was a little sweaty, but it wasn't nearly as bad as the fever he'd had a few weeks ago.

"I just… just..." He growled in frustration, tugging at his antennae. "I don't know! It's like it's trying to control me but won't give any directions! Just tell me what you want!" He jabbed his stomach.

"Maybe it wants you to give me another kiss." The side of Dib's mouth quirked up into a smirk. Zim looked up at him, before grabbing Dib's shirt and hauling himself up with it, tugging Dib down at the same time so their faces met in the middle. Zim's lips smashed against Dib's, legs moving to straddle his sides so their bodies were squished together. Dib felt like a teddy bear Zim was about to squeeze the stuffing out of, and then Zim shoved his tongue into his mouth and his train of thought derailed immediately.

"Mmmph!" _ That _one was new. Dib's fingers had been loosely floating over Zim's lower back, and he gripped the fabric at the bottom of Zim's shirt like it was a lifeline. Zim's tongue was like a snake, poking at the inside of Dib's cheeks before trying to move down his throat.

Dib's eyes popped open, seeing Zim's squeezed shut and his cheeks dotted with a flush. He could feel the tongue crammed into his mouth, probably five times longer than any human one and just as thick, and realized he couldn't breathe. "Mmmph!" He tugged on Zim's shirt, but Zim pressed their lips together harder, not realizing that Dib's flush was starting to darken. "Zmmm-"

Zim squeezed his legs together a little on Dib's sides. Dib could feel it tickling the inside of his throat, and his vision was starting to go fuzzy until he made a fist and banged on the side of Zim's Pak. Zim gasped into his mouth, jolting and pulling his head back. His tongue came with him, sliding over Dib's flat one and he yelped again when it was smoking slightly. "Gah!"

"What the _ hell _was that for?"

Zim left his tongue out of his mouth for a few moments to let it stop the sizzling so he could speak. "It was in that movie that Gir kept watching- isn't that just another type of kissing? The movie people did it, and it _ seemed _ disgusting but it's _ you _, and you liked the first one!"

Dib had no idea if the red on his own cheeks were due to still recovering from mild suffocation or because somewhere deep down he'd actually _ liked _that. "You could have warned me first!" He smacked his lips, trying to swallow through his suddenly-dry throat.

"I asked if you liked it before. You said yes." Zim raised an eyebrow.

"...Okay. Fair enough." Dib rubbed the outside of his throat. "But for future reference, ask before you try to choke me out, will you?"

"Fine, fine, Zim will get permission next time." Zim waved his hand, and Dib noticed that he was shivering slightly. He also was still squishing Dib's sides with his legs, keeping them pressed together.

"Wait, are you _ cold _now?"

"No."

"You are." Dib set a hand on Zim's cheek- the sweat on it had begun to dry, and his skin had an odd, almost dry texture. "I'm going to go get a blanket." He moved to stand up, but Zim clung to him. "Come on, I'm trying to help!"

"I'm coming with you," Zim declared. "I know where the best blankets are, so you will be the vehicle to get me there."

"And by best, you mean-"

"The ones Gir hasn't touched recently."

"Gotchya." Dib tried to get up again and managed to do it properly this time, even with Zim clinging to him like a particularly pregnant koala. His legs stayed tight around Dib's torso, and his arms had encircled Dib's neck. Dib set an arm underneath him to help keep him up, and Zim's cheek plopped down on his shoulder.

"Down the hall, take the second left. And then… eeh, I'll know it when I see it."

Dib started walking, hearing skittering and a mewling yelp from somewhere far in front of him.

Eh, he could get the cat back later. Right now he had a date with some fleece and an alien who was feeling into human affection at the moment. Zim snuggled against him, and Dib smiled to himself, even as he swallowed past the strange feeling in his throat.

It was weird, but he didn't want anything else.

* * *

A/N: Again, if you want to see all the fanart, check out the ao3 version of the fic (the art for specific chapters is embedded there and the rest is linked) but this one had two I really wanted to share. Just delete the spaces and replace the dot and slash with periods and /. It's annoying how much ffnet hates links.

shadowofthelamp dot tumblr dot com slash post / 188057534791 / lovelycoris-submitted-the-phrase -a-particularly

shadowofthelamp dot tumblr dot com slash post/ 188057822846 /definitelynotanalien-submitted-that-entire-last


	24. Nest Mess

"Are you _ kidding _ me?" Dib stared at the living room. Or rather, what was left of it. The couch had been shoved on its side, and there were blankets and pillows scattered all over. That wasn't the worst part- no, the worst part was a persistent cheesy smell that clogged his nose coming from the nachos and mashed potatoes smeared across the carpet. "Gir!" He'd been asleep for maybe four hours, how _ fast _had the robot wrecked the place?

"Yeeeees?" Gir poked his little head out from underneath one of the mattresses (why was there a mattress, did Zim have another guest room he'd forgotten about?) and grinned up at Dib. "It's my fortress, wanna come in? I'm the knight, you can be the princess!"

"It smells terrible." Dib held his nose. "Where's Zim?"

"Hmm…. I'unno. He'd be a good princess."

"Where's Zim?" Dib repeated, and Gir thought so hard for a moment smoke started seeping out of the edges of his head.

"Hm… Hmmm…! Oh, he's in the bathroom."

"The bathroom?" Great. Dib waded through the mess- Zim was going to throw_such _ a fit- and headed for the tiny bathroom tucked in the back. Zim almost always used the one in the lab, the upper-level one usually for either Gir or Dib, but now that he listened, he heard retching noises from it. He knocked on the door, biting his lip. "Zim?"

"Hrrrugh!" Another thick splattering noise. Wonderful, so he was _really _ sick. He hadn't thrown up in just long enough that Dib had assumed that particular hurdle was over with. Guess not. "I'm coming in."

"Gir, if you give me any more of those, I'm taking your doggy- "

"It's Dib."

"Oh. Fine."

Dib eased the door open, seeing Zim looking almost white. He sucked in a sympathetic breath through his teeth. Zim looked up with his eyes half-lidded and washed out, with his antennae both pressed flat against his head and one hand over a bucket while the other cradled his stomach.

"Why did you bother to go to the bathroom if you were going to use a bucket anyways?"

"Self- self-cleaning. I set this room up to clean itself since it's where Gir goes after a night out."

"Oh. That actually makes a lot of sense." Dib knelt down, then sat on his butt since Zim glared at him for daring to be tall enough to have to kneel. "Can I get you anything? Soda used to help my stomach when I was sick. I think it was the bubbles. Does irken soda have carbonation?"

"O'course it does," Zim mumbled. "Fetch it, then. And honey. The bear one, I like that one…"

"Soda and honey. Got it." Dib pressed a hand to Zim's forehead. "Oh geez, you're all sweaty too."

"It's terrible!" Zim spat out, nearly (and Dib thanked the gods it was only _ nearly _) knocking over the vomit bucket. "My back hurts, my spooch hurts, my skin hurts since my Pak can't repair the stretching, I can't keep anything down, and Gir put filthy potatoes all over the pile!"

"Wait, you knew about that already? Good, I didn't want to be the one to tell you."

Zim narrowed his eyes. "Soda. Now."

Dib slid back on the tile on his butt before he stood up, taking a step back. That was Zim's 'get me something or the skewering legs come out' look. He hurried to the kitchen, rummaging around in the fridge until he found something that said 'Adsod' in irken, (which he was pretty sure was soda) and a half-empty bottle of honey shaped like a bear. The top was all sticky, but it was the right kind at least.

He was about to return to the bathroom when Zim passed him in the hall. He wiped his mouth on his sleeve, then his sleeve on the arm of the askew couch. Geez, he must have felt pretty awful to willingly wipe germs all over something he sat on. Dib held out the bottle and can like a peace offering. "Here ya go."

Zim snatched them both.

"You probably want to go slow- " Okay, nevermind, Zim was chugging it. He finished it in about fifteen seconds, tossing it back at Dib before popping open the honey and doing the same to that. Dib chucked the can at the trash. When Zim was done he had a little more color to his skin, though, so maybe he really just needed the sugar.

Zim burrowed himself into the nearest pile of blankets. "Ugh, Gir, I told you to remove the potatoes."

"I made a mashed potato head, see?" Gir held up a half-smashed whole potato with a face scribbled on in sharpie. Of the half the remained, Dib saw X's for eyes and a pink toothpick tongue sticking out.

"Yes, Gir, I see." Zim pulled his legs in. "It's awful."

Gir's lip started wobbling, and Dib groaned. He rummaged around in the mess, pulling out a toy moose.

"Here, play with the moose instead of crying."

Gir grabbed it, squeaking in excitement before burrowing down into the blankets again, and Dib turned to Zim.

"So… what's with the tornado that went through here? I'd think you'd be screaming at Gir right now."

Zim pulled a blanket around his shoulders. "I wanted it."

"You wanted to completely destroy the living room?" Dib raised an eyebrow, and Zim hissed, the blankets around him shifting.

"Of course not! This was a tactical choice- the more layers, the less likely anything can get at me." Zim said, eyes narrowing.

"Riiiiiight. And the food?"

"Why do you think I got sick again? Gir needs to clean that up," Zim said with a slight pout. "Computer! Can you vacuum the food out of the… the…"

"It looks like a really gross nest to me," Dib offered.

"Zim is no bird!"

"Fish make nests too, I think. You could count mammalian burrows too, in a way, so honestly a lot of species could-"

"Nest it is, then, but I refuse to let it be filthied up by Gir's messy foodstuffs anymore." Zim looked up at the ceiling again.

**"Fine, but you need to get out first," **The computer said. Zim groaned.

"But it's more comfortable in here…"

"Up you go." Dib reached into the bundle, grabbing Zim's shoulders and yanking him out before getting a hiss and an angry swipe at his stomach in return. After he tried to arch his back to avoid his shirt being shredded, they both yelped as a large circular hole opened in the middle of the living room, everything within range falling into it. Dib yanked Zim closer to him when he nearly slipped, boots just on the edge.

"Hey! What was _that_ for?" Zim snapped.

**"You told me to wash it. I'm going to wash it."** The computer whirred a little. **"Give me a few minutes, geez."**

"Hmmph." Zim crossed his arms, and Dib sat down just in front of the kitchen tile.

"This is probably a good time for another log."

Zim pulled on his wig and contacts. "Fine, that will burn time. Just talk fast."

Dib flicked on the camera. "Log five- right now it's November fifth, and Zim and Gir built a nest out of blankets, mattresses, and pretty much any other soft material that was around."

"Gir put _ so _much food in it when I turned my back for two minutes…" Zim shuddered.

"Yeah, and it smelled like the dumpster behind the Krazy Taco after the dogs got at it," Dib added. "Anyways, that's something that's definitely irken. I think humans do get tidier, but nothing like this, and not a literal nest. It's only been two days since the last log, so Zim hadn't really gotten any bigger I don't think, but he's pouty right now, and he was being really clingy yesterday."

"Lies and slander!"

Dib tapped his throat. "I actually could still feel your alien slime in my throat when I was brushing my teeth last night."

"That's it!" Zim lunged for the camera, but Dib quickly stood up, raising it above his head. Zim jumped for it once, before grabbing Dib's shirt like it was a climbing net and hauling himself up, swiping for the camera with his free hand as his feet scrabbled against Dib's pants. Dib stretched up, clicking the button to end the recording.

"There, I finished it, are you happy?"

"I was not being clingy!"

"You nearly choked me with a kiss and then had me carry you around for the next twenty minutes," Dib said flatly. "You're clingy normally anyways, but the pregnancy's making you worse. Not that I _ minded _the kisses, but still."

Zim curled his hand into a fist, sliding off of Dib. "You're just… just… you're in my space!"

"Sure I am," Dib said, taking a step back before his heel nudged the empty honey container. He picked it up, grimacing at the way it stuck to his hands. "But you wanted me here in the first place. I'm trying to help."

"A lot of good it's doing," Zim growled, and Dib was about to retort when the floor in the middle of the room rose back up, blankets warm from whatever alien cleaning process they'd been subjected to. Zim took two steps back and sank down in them, eyes closing as he took a deep breath.

"Look, let's just pull out some dumb cartoon Gir usually watches and make fun of how forced the moral message is in it. That sound good?"

Zim huddled down a little further in his blanket pile. "Acceptable."

The remote had been spared from the cleaning, settled on top of the side table, and Dib grabbed it. He stepped behind Zim before sitting down, leaning against one of the mattresses and clicking the TV on.

Gir popped out of a bundle of blankets, still hugging the moose, and he settled the side of his face on top of Zim's stomach. Zim stifled a burp.

"No cuddlies now, Gir, I'm still queasy."

"Aww, I want cuddlies, though…" Gir started whining, tilting his head with tears starting to brim in his eyes. Zim gnawed on the inside of his cheek for a few moments before sighing.

"Fine, but no pinching."

"Okay!" Gir grinned, immediately cheering up as he snuggled next to Zim's side. "We gonna watch tv?"

"Yes, we're watching tv." Zim confirmed, nodding at Dib to turn it on.

Dib waited until Zim was sufficiently distracted to discreetly take a picture of Gir cuddled up to his stomach. That one was going straight to the favorites album.


	25. Pink Hologram

"An ultra-_ what?" _

"Ultrasound. I want to see what they look like," Dib said, and Zim blinked, before looking down at his stomach.

"That was an _ option?"_

"I can't believe I didn't think of it before, actually. You've said your Pak gives you updates, right?"

Zim nodded. "This morning they were at 50.03 percent."

"That's good! Pretty on schedule, right? Humans usually do this before that point, so they've _ got _to be developed well enough to get a decent idea of what they're going to look like. Irkens and humans have the same general outward structure, but I'd like to know if they're going to have a third arm or whatever."

Zim balked. "They wouldn't!"

"Weird mutations can happen a lot with hybrids, and on top of that you're an alien who's pregnant on a foreign world." Dib shrugged. "I'd prefer to have our bases covered." He looked up to the ceiling. "Computer, do you think you can scan Zim to get a picture of the smeet? You can look up human ultrasounds, right?"

**"Of course I can!" ** The computer sounded almost offended. **"What do you ** ** _take _ ** **me for?" **

Dib leaned against the wall as Zim prodded under his armpit, as if wondering how a third arm would look. "The arm thing was just an example, you know. It's more likely the skin would be patchy or their senses would be kind of off. I just hope the organs aren't all mixed up." He shuddered. "That would be terrible, and pretty gruesome, but I'm pretty sure they'd die before even being born at that point-"

"Stop talking or I'll cut out your tongue." Zim clutched his shirt, one eye twitching. "We're looking at it _ right now._"

Dib started picking lint off his coat. "What else can your Pak tell you?"

"They have four limbs and the start of two antennae," Zim said. "So your silly arm-theory is foolish and wrong-"

"I already _ said _that was just an example!" Dib said. "Anyways, this is probably going to be in the med bay, come on."

Zim straightened up, starting to march down the hall. To Dib's amusement, his usual stiff militaristic movement had softened a bit, and his hips swayed slightly with each step. Adjusting to the weight must be weird for him…

Anyways. Dib pushed off the wall, following behind him. "You know, sometimes during ultrasounds they can find out the sex of the baby."

"They won't be having any of _ that. _"

"No, like if they're a boy or a girl. Biologically, anyways, gender identity comes later. But you said irkens looked mostly the same on the outside, right?"

Zim nodded. "The only real differences are on the inside."

"Hmm. I guess it depends on how human they are, then, unless we can get it to look inside their bodies too…"

"I don't care if it's all of them, as long as it doesn't come out dead." Zim flapped his hand around as he spoke.

"All of them?"

"How many genders are there on Earth again?"

Dib paused for a moment. "I'm not sure? A lot. Plenty of people just end up either guy or girl, though, so statistically they'll probably be one of those."

"Right." Zim absently scratched the side of his stomach as they turned the corner and the doors of the med bay opened in front of them. "Computer! Are you finished yet?"

**"I don't have the right equipment for a human one, but I can scan you and create a hologram. Just take your shirt off."**

"Oh, that's even cooler!" Dib perked up. "Do that!"

Zim pulled himself up unto the nearest table, tugging his shirt up, and fought back a flinch when a mechanical eye popped out of the wall. A pink light began slowly scanning down his belly, starting at the top and extending down.

Dib glanced at the screen across the room. "Is that where you're going to project it?"

**"Pssh, you think I need to be restricted to that? Lame," ** The computer said. **"Just wait." **

Energy buzzed in the walls, and Dib could feel the pulse of his heart thumping in his ears as he counted the seconds. Zim's feet bounced against the table, and he looked around, fidgeting with the index finger of his glove. The toe of Dib's boots clicked against the tiled floor as he tapped his foot. "How long-"

**"There we go."** An image bloomed in front of Zim, a slightly translucent pink 3D hologram that was clearly blown up since it was about the size of a watermelon. It was curled up, but the shape was clear- almost like a doll, with thin limbs and not quite a full face with the eyes closed. The hands were small enough that he couldn't even tell the number of fingers yet. There was some of the cushioning organ around it in the hologram, moving almost like a heartbeat, and tiny nubs on the top of the head that probably were the antennae beginning to grow, but otherwise it just looked… like a baby. Not some amorphous lump like Dib had half-expected, but a little underdeveloped _ person_.

Zim and Dib reached for the hologram at the same time, and the image distorted as irken and human fingers brushed over it on opposite ends.

"They're…" Dib trailed off, unsure what to say to explain the sudden tightness in his chest. "They're _ real. _"

"Of course they are- you think I'm doing this for some mere _ fantasy?_" Zim scoffed, but his eyes were bright. As they watched, the scanning light kept on Zim's middle, and the image moved slightly, one leg shifting. Zim looked down, mouth falling open. "I _ felt _ that."

"It _ is _ inside you." Dib set his hand on Zim's middle, rubbing his thumb against a patch of skin. Zim's hand settled on top of his, a smirk spreading across pink-tinted teeth.

"They look just fine to me, but of course that's due to me being the carrier."

"Suuuuure it is." Dib rolled his eyes, but he still had a big grin plastered on his face. "I wonder what they'll look like."

"Well, they've got four limbs. We can tell that right now. Can't you see?"

"No, I mean more than that. Their eyes are closed. They could be pink, or brown, and irken or human. Maybe even one of each, humans can have eyes of two different colors! We have no idea." Dib looked back at the hologram, seeing the tiny shifts as they moved a hand and a foot. "They could have skin of any shade between yours and mine, they might have hair or not... "

"Considering how greasy yours gets, I hope not," Zim grumbled. "They'll have my head, I bet. I have a taller head than you, yours is just fa-"

"You have to cram all those vocal cords in somehow," Dib cut Zim off, still transfixed by the image. "Can you tell their sex?"

The computer made a sort of 'I dunno' noise. **"They're either a girl or more irken."**

"So it still could be anything..." Dib tilted his head. "Their biology is going to be _ fascinating. _We'll have to run some tests to make sure they can eat Earth food, and see how much of a resistance to water my DNA gives them. I hope it's a lot, it would be a pain in the ass to have to bathe a little kid in paste all the time…"

"You get used to it," Zim said. "Maybe they'll have good enough reflexes to be able to actually steer the Voot without crashing into a-"

"That was _ one _time!" Dib groaned. "Gir jumped on my head and I couldn't see, I got the marks out of the paint!"

"You tried, but I still-"

"Oh, don't get into this again, I already apologized and you know it." Dib huffed, sucking in a deep breath before letting it out slowly. His hand had curled up into a fist against Zim's skin, and he flattened it, feeling the small grooves of the stretchmarks with the pads of his fingertips. "They're at fifty percent. That means it'll be a little over two months until they're here. We need to start really buckling down to get ready."

"We already have the clothes and toys, what else do we need besides food?"

Dib ran his free hand through his hair, grimacing at the slickness- he needed to take a shower. "I'm going to go through Dad's notes and catalogue everything we still need. I skimmed them- man, apparently making me was _ really _complicated, and then you just did it on accident."

"I'm just that great," Zim beamed, and Dib bounced his fist in the air as he thought, starting to pace.

"We'll need to find a way to get food if they are allergic to as much as you are, and… did you start building the crib yet?"

Zim shook his head. "I was… waiting for the right moment! Yeah, that's it."

"You forgot," Dib said with a quirked eyebrow, and Zim straightened up.

"I did not!"

"It's fine, we still have plenty of time, especially with me on hand." Dib's shoes squeaked as he made a sharp turn. "But two months really isn't that long if we have to figure out how to- to really be parents. We can't just hire someone to help once they're born, they might notice something is up." He sighed."As stupid as people are around here, it's not a risk we can take if they realize the baby's half-alien. And Dad's notes are mostly about studying me specifically and trying to figure out the exact proper nutrient mix for formula, so they're not exactly very good on the touchy-feely stuff."

Dib strode over to the table, hopping up next to Zim. "What are we going to _ do?" _

Zim puffed out an irritated breath, crossing his arms. "The same as we were planning to do the whole time- we figure it out, we make sure they don't die, you get to poke at them and I get a minion who actually listens to me." His scoff softened into a smile as he traced a circle on top of his stomach, fingers gray as the pink light mixed with his skin. "And they _ will _listen. I can already tell."

Dib took another deep breath. "Right. We can do this. You've survived an absolutely ridiculous amount of stuff, and I've somehow managed to make it to 18 without any paranormal creature ripping my head off. We can deal with some dirty diapers and figuring out food allergies. I can check them over to make sure they're okay." He scooted forward, setting his chin on top of Zim's skull between his antennae. The gesture often annoyed Zim, but now, he just leaned his head back a bit to look up at Dib.

"They're a mix of us. They'll be perfect."

Dib let out a little snort of a laugh. "I don't think anything that's a mix of _us_ will be perfect. Perfectly strange, maybe."

"And what's wrong with _ that?"_ Zim shot back.

"Nothing," Dib said, pulling one leg over to settle on the other side of Zim so his chest rested against the Pak and they were both facing the hologram, now still but for the soft pulse of organ around it. "Nothing at all."


	26. Sponge

Zim couldn't believe how _ dirty _ the base was. How on irk had he let its condition degrade so horribly over the past few days? Gir hadn't been _ particularly _ filthy lately- the worst he'd done was scoot his butt around on the floor with a bagel in his hand and then eaten it. That was nothing, compared to what he usually did. But the dust and dirt Dib and Gir had tracked around, combined with the disgusting Earth atmosphere- yes, something had to be done. His head _ ached _smelling all the wrongness and crud that surrounded him.

Zim dug out his old germ goggles- he had tried to use them only sparingly in the last few years, not eager to repeat the rampart paranoia and anxiety that came with them. This was an exceptional circumstance, though- everything had to be disinfected to keep him from becoming too twitchy. Just looking at any one wall had his organs curdling inside of him.

He had piled up all of the nesting blankets in the corner and finished mopping the floor on the ground level. The couch had been disinfected, then flipped back to its regular spot- Gir had been griping and Zim had missed being able to sit on it anyways. He was halfway through scrubbing the walls when Dib stepped off the living room elevator. He immediately started staring at Zim.

"What are you _ doing?"_

Was he being denser than usual or had his glasses fallen off? Zim squinted, pulling the old germ goggles up to his forehead- no, Dib's glasses were settled on top of the bridge of his nose, as usual. "I'm cleaning."

"You're sponging the wall," Dib said, rather unnecessarily in Zim's opinion.

"Yes, and?"

"And- well, I guess that isn't that bad, all things considered. Just felt like it?"

Zim narrowed his eyes. "Why else would I?"

"I wasn't sure if Gir spilled something." Dib paused. "Wait, I saw him downstairs just a few minutes ago and he wasn't covered in sauce or anything, but he could probably drop something without getting all gross himself. He's weird like that."

"He prefers rolling around in whatever mess he makes," Zim said, going back to getting a spot of putty off the wall. It had been where he'd once hung a picture of the robo-parents to add another facet of normalcy to the base in case of guests. He was glad he didn't have to deal with them much anymore- now that in the eyes of the other humans he was an adult and had graduated hi skool, he was capable of living alone. It wasn't like he didn't have enough on his plate when it came to robots with Gir and Minimoose, and the longer the parents had existed the more they'd glitched up. Now they were only for guarding the house when he was away for more than a day or two.

"Yeah, I'm sure there's some way to fix that, but I'd be terrified to rummage around inside his head," Dib said. "Do you want some kind of- I mean, you're wearing gloves on top of your gloves. Do you want an apron or something?"

Zim tilted his head. "For what?"

"Your shirt is starting to ride up." Dib pointed, and Zim looked down, grimacing. So it was. A sliver of skin was clear, even when he stopped stretching. He tugged it down, but it just popped back up. He snarled.

"Obey me!" He pulled at it again, but again, it slid up, exposing just enough skin to thoroughly irritate him. Was _ nothing _going right today?

Dib was grinning, and Zim dropped the sponge as he slid off the couch to march over to him, hands on his hips.

"What's so funny?"

"I'm not- you know what, look. Just give me a second." He held up his index finger, stepping back into the elevator. It carried him down just far enough that Zim could hear him saying something to the computer but not what it was. Rude. Zim's foot began tapping on the newly-mopped floor, a staccato that pleased his antennae but not his ankle as he waited for Dib to return with an explanation.

After a minute and a half, he bent over to pick up the sponge and felt the uniform top slide up again. He tugged at it so hard that the supposedly-stretchy fabric practically flew up when he let go.

"Argh!"

"If you're done being attacked by your clothes, I might have a solution." Dib had returned, hands behind his back. Zim climbed up on top of the couch cushions to put them on more even ground, not in any particular mood to have to crane his neck to meet Dib's eyes. Dib strode across the room, although he did slip for a moment on the slick floor, something that brightened Zim's mood considerably and made him chuckle.

"Well? Give it!" Zim held out his hands, and Dib took a deep breath.

"Okay, I know you were really protesting against it, but if this is a little over halfway and you're already showing enough to have your uniform ride up, it might not be much of a choice anymore." He revealed the bundle of fabric from behind his back, and Zim recoiled.

It was a dark blue shirt with stars decorating the front. "What is- is that _ yours?"_

"It was from the back of my closet- I was probably fourteen when I got it? Anything from when I was your height is going to have the same too-tight problem, but being longer means it will cover more. I think I hit my first growth spurt around then."

Zim's face wrinkled as one eye twitched. "I told you once, I don't-"

"You said my stuff made you feel gooey inside." Dib pointed out. "Maybe this is something normal. Besides, I washed it."

"By your standards or mine?"

"By- look, just take the shirt, okay? If you hate it it's just going to the donation bin anyways, I won't fit into it anymore."

Zim tugged the goggles back on. The shirt was… minimally dirty, he supposed. Most of it was probably from Dib's oily hands touching it on the way up here. He held his hands out a little further, and Dib deposited the shirt in them. Zim swallowed, turning the fabric over. The very idea of decorating himself with Dib's old clothes made him queasy, (or at least knotted up inside with something he couldn't place) but it wasn't like creating a hybrid smeet using his DNA was exactly much better. If he asked for a uniform a size up, there would be questions, and he didn't want any nosy antennae where they didn't belong.

He pulled the shirt on over his head. It caught on his collar, but a sharp tug with a slight tear of the fabric got it over the bulky edges. His uniform's shoulderpads created an awkward bump when he examined his shoulders, but otherwise it was… fine. He pulled the fabric's collar up to his face, sniffing a bit, and the scent of Dib soaked into the threads from years in his closet was faint and brought a slight flush to his cheeks without him even noticing.

"I'm going to take the fact that you aren't throttling me to mean that you like it?" Dib asked. Zim craned his neck to look down- the shirt went just past where his uniform usually did, which was good. As long as he didn't look down, he'd barely notice it, especially with how the shoulderpads kept the fabric from completely touching his upper arms.

"Mmm, I'll allow it." Zim said. "This shall be my cleaning shirt."

"I brought a couple if you want any more," Dib said. "And it's probably time for another log, if you're being germophobic again. I'd imagine that's more nesting behavior."

Zim examined the wall behind him, but it was mostly germ-free now. Most of what was left was near the ceiling, which would be kind of a pain to reach, and he could always go back later. He nodded, mostly to himself. This was acceptable. The ache in his head was gone now anyways.

"A log is fine." He swapped his contacts for the goggles and settled his wig on- after so long it was practically instinct to shift it a little so it settled properly on his skull. Dib settled on top of the couch- Zim was glad he'd taken the goggles off, he was probably getting germs on it, bleh- and Zim hopped up next to him.

"Log six," Dib said, holding the camera up to try and get both of them in the shot. "Zim's being kind of a clean freak today. It's November… uh… I think it's the eleventh? Tenth or eleventh." He switched out of the camera function for a second to check before going back. "Yeah, it's the eleventh. Anyways. Zim was scrubbing the walls when I came upstairs, and from how slick the floor is he was mopping that too."

"I wouldn't have to if you bathed more often," Zim said, arms crossed.

"Hey, I took a shower yesterday, don't blame this on me!" Dib protested. "It's probably just trying to keep things clean for the kid when they come. Making sure they won't get sick is something that I can see happening." He shifted the camera to take in Zim. "He's also started outgrowing his uniform, so I gave him an old shirt. I've got some more in various sizes, but I guessed right because this one fits him pretty well. Go me."

Zim's hands tightened on his arms. "It's only because I don't want anything getting on my skin. This covers it."

"Go ahead and tell yourself that." Dib nudged Zim's shoulder. "You know the routine by now, shirt up."

Zim huffed, staying still for a few moments just to spite Dib before pulling both shirts up to reveal his stomach. "It hasn't moved much today."

"It probably depends." Dib shrugged. "I wouldn't worry about it."

Zim bit his lip, looking down, but as he moved to replace the clothes there was a bump on the skin accompanied by a twist in his spooch. "Huh?"

"Oh, wow, I actually saw that, they must be getting stronger!" Dib had a smile full of bright teeth, and Zim felt a matching one begin to spread across his face.

"It knows we're talking about it." Zim gave it a pat. "I know you must be excited to meet me, but you still have to wait."

"Just don't wait too long, or Zim's back is going to hate you."

Zim swatted at Dib's face at that, making him laugh as he turned the camera back on himself. "Okay, okay, that's all for now. Dib out."

A glove brushed over where the smeet had made the bump, and Zim gave it a little rub, antennae twitching under the wig as the side of his mouth quirked up in a smile.


	27. Crib Crab

The crib was shaped like an egg, and Zim's patience was about to snap like the shell of one. This should have only taken a few hours, but his arms couldn't bend the metal like he usually could, and now his bones ached. He groaned, arching his back and hearing a CRACK in his lower spine when he stretched far enough. He looked down at the curve of his abdomen, under the blue of Dib's old shirt. "I'm making this for you, you could appreciate it a little more, you know!"

"Appreciate what?" Dib walked into the room, Gir at his heels.

"The crab."

"The crib?"

"Yes, yes, that's what I said." Zim pulled the goggles off his face, waving the drill and getting tiny metal shavings on his cheeks as it whirred. "It's taking longer to build than I anticipated."

"You need any help?"

"Oooh!" Gir scrambled past Dib, hopping up into the shell of the crib and squirming through the space left by the unwelded bars. Zim grabbed one foot, yanking him back, and Gir squealed as he was thrown through the air from the force, landing right in Dib's arms.

"It's not done yet, the shields could have fried your AI," Zim tossed Gir's foot back at him. It zipped back to its rightful place. Dib moved to set him down before Gir clung to him and scrambled up his arms.

"Oh, okay, you're on my head now." Dib looked up to see Gir waving happily at him before walking over to Zim.

"To answer your question, no, I don't need any help." Zim huffed. "I should have been done already, but it was being difficult. These parts must be wrong. I'll have to order more."

"Do you have a blueprint?"

Zim tossed it to him, and Dib knelt down, unfurling it. He winced as Gir gripped his hair, leaning over to try and get a better look as well.

"Ooooh, you making a pony?"

"No, a crib." Dib scanned over the sheet. "Okay, the base construction doesn't look too hard… it's just an oval. So you're going to only have a few bars and the rest is a force field?"

"Gir's gotten his head stuck in things way too small for him before. I don't want to be pulling the smeet out too."

"The soundproofing's build into the shield, and then only you and I and Minimoose can get through… that's a good idea." Dib ran his fingers over it. "Man, your handwriting is terrible."

"Is not! I can read it just fine."

"That's because it's _yours. _" Dib squinted. "Okay, this part is in irken… cloaking?"

"I found some discontinued Megadoomer blueprints, and this way I can keep them away from Gir if I want to! If he rolled it around that probably wouldn't be good. Smeet brains are gooier than normal brains, it'd get all splattered."

"You want to make a floating crib, with the baby inside… invisible." Dib said slowly. "So you can't see it."

"Only sometimes, so Gir doesn't try and bat it around. Every time I make something, he has to get his grubby little hands on it."

"I sure do!" Gir chirped.

"We did practice with cloaked objects at basic training," Zim added. "It's not like I'd lose it."

"Yeah, you would. You're just making it harder for yourself. Making it so you can mute outside sound so they can sleep is a good idea, but it doesn't need a ton of tech."

"Of course it does, they'll only have the best." Zim scoffed. "If I'm doing this, I'm doing it right."

"I don't know how 'right' this is," Dib said, running a finger along one of the curved bars. "It's probably better than having hard corners, though. Babies run into stuff a lot, right?"

"Don't ask me, you're the species that needs smeet cages that _aren't _for punishment," Zim said, pulling his goggles back on. "When I was put in something like this, it was usually because I 'blew something up' or 'was a threat to myself and others.' " He made finger quotes as he scoffed. "They put the fireworks near the bunks, what did they expect?"

"Man, I'm glad you didn't show up in my class until recently, you must have been terrible when you were actually my age." Dib grimaced. "Although fireworks would certainly have broken up the doom and gloom when Miss Bitters got going."

"That was the point!" Zim pointed the drill tip at Dib. "See, _you _get it and you weren't even there! Holosims are so _boring _without actual gore." He stood up, stretching before pawing at the back of his neck. "Your shirt is strange. The collar is too itchy, how did you _stand _this?"

"That's probably the fleas."

_"What?" _

Dib grinned. "Yeah, my dad accidentally let radioactive fleas loose a few years back, I'm still picking them out of my stuff sometimes."

Zim clawed at the shirt. "Get it off, get it off!" He yanked it over his head, but it caught on his collar, tearing nearly in half. Dib snickered.

"Zim, I was joking. It's probably just the fact that it has a tag."

"Tag? You mean that infernal little strip in the back?" Zim pulled the shirt the rest of the way off, ripping the fabric more. It wasn't like he was putting it back on now, joke or no. That tag _was _very irritating.

Dib nodded. "Yeah, they can be annoying to me too. Give me a second." He turned, Gir shrieking happily as he headed down the hall. Zim flipped the remains of the shirt over, reaching into the collar and rubbing the tag between his thumb and index finger. It was so _scratchy _, why would humans torment themselves with something like this?

Gir started singing the theme song to some cartoon show that Zim couldn't recall the name of, and he could hear when Dib returned by the increase in volume. Dib's eye was twitching as he handed Zim another folded shirt, and Zim grinned. Living with Gir took some getting used to.

"Here, this one doesn't have a tag on it, I cut it off ages ago."

Zim pinched the edges and lifted it up, letting the dark blue fabric fall open to reveal… a neon green shape in the middle. It was an oval with a point on the bottom, and had two tilted disks like eyes. He squinted.

"What is this supposed to be- is this an alien?"

"Yeah. It was that or the shirt we all got for participating in the middle school talent show- you remember that?"

"I remember you were a terrible singer," Zim said, tilting it from side to side to examine it further.

"And I can't believe you were actually a really good one. Seriously, what are the odds?" Dib said. "Knife juggling was kind of overboard, though."

"I don't do things halfway," Zim said, looking down at his uniform. The skin at the bottom was still visible. He'd torn the first shirt trying to get it over the collar. If it didn't fit _anyway… _He set the shirt down, pulling at the back of his collar to pop the harder part over his head.

"Yeah, I think that's pretty obvious by now," Dib said with some bemusement. "You look like a dog with one of those medical cones on their head, by the way."

"Silence!" Zim snapped, yanking hard enough to catch his antennae as the entire top came off. Dib fell quiet, staring at Zim now clad only in gloves, tights, and boots. The curve of his belly was more obvious without any top as opposed to when he just pulled it up, something Zim noticed immediately. He had intended to immediately replace it with the new shirt, but his hand lingered over the skin, floating just above it for a moment before making contact.

"Hey, are they moving around right now?" Dib asked, scooting a little closer on his knees. He moved to touch Zim's hand, but Gir slid off his head, landing in between them.

"Oooh, you're getting fat!"

"Gir!" Zim glared at him. "I am not! That's... eh- the smeet's space. "

"Hi," Gir said almost reverently, setting his hand on the skin next to Zim's. It was cool, and Zim had to suppress a shudder at the shiver it sent up his spine. Gir gave a little squeeze before pulling back, and Zim's left antenna twitched. He reached for the shirt, tugging it on fast before Gir decided he should give it a kiss or something.

Zim's fingers pinched the bottom of the shirt, holding it out so he could see the design upside down. "And normal humans wear clothing declaring themselves alien property like this?"

"Yeah, I told you it was in my- hey, it's not saying you're alien property, just that you like aliens!"

"Well, I asked about normal humans, not about you."

Dib smacked him with the sleeve of his coat, but Zim laughed hard enough over his own joke that it was well worth it.


	28. First Snow

It was snowing. The first snow of the season, white poison dripping down the window and turning to water as soon as it touched the superior irken glass. Tomorrow, Gir would probably start rolling around in it, (and pick up mud and grass stains that Zim would have to scrub out, _ugh _) but for now, it was starting to slowly build up on the front lawn in a smooth carpet.

The subtle curves as it piled up _appeared_ soft, but years of experience taught him that it never felt as nice as it looked. Besides, he hadn't bothered to bathe in paste earlier. Zim's fingers tapped against the windowsill as he leaned on his elbows, feeling shifts inside of him even as his feet remained still. Every tiny movement brushed against the inside of the alien shirt Dib had borrowed him.

The clock in the kitchen ticked on, little clicks every second. Gir had gotten it recently- it was in the shape of a black cat with wide, mocking eyes. Zim hated it, but Gir really seemed to love it, watching it for hours as the tail swished from side to side. It was rare Zim was on the floor level without some noise to block it off, and thus it wasn't worth the effort of calming Gir down if he threw it out. So on it went, moments marked by the plastic snaps and gears turning.

He grimaced, straightening up- the condensation on the windows was starting to leak into the tiny gap in the bottom he still needed to fix.

Dib was- what _was_ Dib doing? He was downstairs.

"Computer!"

**"Whaaaaaat?"**

"Show me Dib."

The tv screen flickered on, revealing Dib yawning with a hand over his mouth, eyes scrunched with bags underneath them. He had his laptop on his crossed legs and was typing. Zim glanced over at the clock on the table next to Dib's bed- _2:46 am_. Didn't humans need something like six or seven hours of sleep? Well, Dib never had listened to that, if the cameras Zim had put in his room back in his house ages ago said anything. Still, what could he even be working on? Dib's mouth gaped open again as he tapped the top of the screen.

"Come on, how many do I even _have? _" He rubbed his eyes under his glasses, squinting. "Oh, right, four hundred sixty-three. Ugh." He swiped at the screen, doing something with his fingers that Zim couldn't see due to the angle. "Two hundred more, then bed."

"What is he doing, computer?"

There was a pause. **"Organizing pictures, I think."**

"Pictures of what?"

**"Some are of you, some are of you and him, some are… I dunno, that one kind of looks like a furry guy and one has wings."**

"Oh." That wasn't anything particularly unusual. Zim knew he did that. Sometimes he sent Zim ones that he thought were funny. He crossed the living room, beginning to pace. The smeet was active tonight, with enough movement that Zim wondered if they had managed to flip over inside of him. Heh. Figures that his offspring would be clever enough to perform acrobatics a month and a half before birth.

"I wonder what you'll look like." He tapped his chin. "You have antennae, that was clear. You'll have my cleverness, of course, I expect no less. Will you have Dib's stubbornness or his number of fingers and toes? No, ten is just too many. Maybe three or four each, that sounds about right. And you'd better get his _good _traits, and not his propensity to put off bathing."

**"Who are you talking to?"**

Zim paused, glaring at the ceiling."Not you."

**"They're not conscious yet, you know."**

"Do you need me to switch your controls over to manual again?"

**"Gives me a break from existing, so sure."**

"It was- argh, nevermind!" Zim groaned, beginning to pace again. His legs felt like a wound spring. "Just be quiet, I'm thinking."

**"Thinking pretty loudly,"** The computer said, but another icy glare from Zim shut it up. The image of Dib disappeared from the screen, and Zim sighed. He'd slept for a few hours earlier, and now his brain was running in ever-tightening circles.

Would it need special food? Dib had freaked out over Zim drinking the- what was it? Cool something? Well, that one was easy enough to avoid, once the green stickers with tongues out were explained to him. But Zim could only eat so much Earth food, and Dib had begun to fuss over nutrition while reading over those folders of paper he'd gained from his father. There was always synthesizing something in the lab or the hospital wing, but they couldn't do that until it was born and they could determine what it needed.

This was turning into more than he'd expected, but that was fine. There was no challenge Zim couldn't meet, after all, and having a little smeet around to talk to and teach would certainly be reward enough.

Dib's comments on how mutated it might come out still itched inside of him though, like spooch-termites.

"Pak, analyze smeet and look for mutations."

The soft whirring mixed with the ticking clock._ "Smeet's growth has accelerated by 4.63 percent. Smeet has four limbs, fzzzzzt antennae, and there are fzzzzzt mutations inside of the spooch." _

Zim froze. "Mutations? Will it- survive?"

_"Ffzzzzzt." _

"Repeat!"

_"Yes." _

Zim let out a breath in relief, sticking his tongue out. "Don't scare me like that! Will it- it won't be seriously affected, will it? It's just because it's part human, is it not?"

_"Data insufficient." _

"That's what the computer said when I- why did no one keep good enough _notes _on this? It's just sloppy!" His pointer finger drummed on the curve of his stomach, and he headed over to the elevator. "Lab level."

The computer actually obeyed for once, and Zim felt the smeet moving around again as if it knew Zim was- no, he wasn't worrying, he was being _vigilant_ about any potential weaknesses or threats to it from the inside. That was all.

He marched off the lift, heading directly towards Dib's room. He needed to tell Dib of this new development. Perhaps they could have another go with the sounding machine.

He peered around the doorframe into Dib's room. The human was currently slumped over his laptop, cheek smushed against the keys with the light casting a ghastly corpse-like coloring on his face. Zim clicked his tongue. Really, he was just going to _ruin_ his equipment like that. He bounced on his heels for a moment before walking in, prying Dib's head off the keyboard and snapping it shut. Dib's glasses were slipping down the bridge of his nose and Zim pulled them off, folding them up and setting them on the side table.

Well, he _had _been yawning, and it wasn't like much would change in a few hours.

Zim knew he'd slept earlier, but the walk down here had tired him. He needed to recharge his Pak, that was all. For now, though, Dib's warm body was inviting enough that it was all too easy to simply… slip away.


	29. Tangled Thoughts

A/N: Warning for gore mentions in this one. Not too far off show-typical but figured better safe than sorry.

* * *

"Give me the pizza, you're hogging it," Zim held out a hand as Dib had the box on his side of the couch. He had grease dripping down the side of his mouth. Zim really should be used to little gross habits by now, but it still made his spooch turn.

"Get your own." Dib huffed. "This one has pepperonis, I didn't think you liked meat."

"Well, I want it now." Zim planted his hands on his hips, and Dib lifted the box, licking a dribble of cheese from the side. He turned, eyes wide and brown and irken-full, the light glittering as they reflected back on Zim the battlefield around them.

Zim turned, tumbling off the couch before Skoodge grabbed his arm and pulled him up. It was dusty, and he rubbed his eyes, but that just got dust in them and that hurt, so he stopped.

"Come on, she's right behind us!"

"Who?"

"The Louse woman!" Skoodge exclaimed, wrenching Zim's arm out of its socket for a moment before it suctioned back to his body as he ran. His body was heavy and slow because the world around him was moving too fast. When he glanced back, it wasn't the Countess but Tak, large and looming with the antenna of a SIR unit. Zim kicked sand up at her face and grinned as she screeched, but he tripped and rolled into a lab table.

Dib grinned at him, glasses glinting and teeth shiny with malice. "Let's see just how long that smeet can survive outside of you, shall we?"

"No!" Zim arched his back but he was strapped down tight, his stomach so large he couldn't see until Dib started cutting. His skin opened like hot butter, the smeet wailing. They were Zim's size and fit into Dib's hands and arms the same way Zim did, green skin and antennae as long and kinked as Dib's hair-lock but with large human eyes. They reached for Zim, crying out as Dib twirled the scalpel once before driving it directly into their stomach and twisting, bright pink organs spilling like so much stuffing out of a teddy bear.

"Get away!" Zim strained to get up again but his skin was pinned down to the table like a dissection specimen. He didn't even realize his spooch was gone until Dib wrapped it around his neck like a scarf. The smeet kept wailing, and Gir joined in, eyes locked duty-red.

Dib turned and spoke with Miyuki's voice. "Show me what this one has to offer." He held up Gir this time, but his stinking human hands were bathed in pink, dripping like wax down a candle.

"I'll rip your throat out!" Zim roared, and Dib laughed.

"Is that any way to speak to your Tallest?"

Zim lunged, the restraints tearing like tissue paper as he pinned Dib down, dripping blood and bits of viscera as his claws dug into the mud. He faintly remembered this place from training. How had Dib gotten to Devastis?

"Don't touch them! They're mine!"

"Zim!" Dib bucked under Zim's hips, cheeks red but still splattered with bubblegum blood.

"Mine, you hear? Mine!"

"Zim!" A worm burst from the ground, biting into Zim's cheek and trying to drag him down, but he wasn't having that- he clutched Dib desperately, trying to push him into the worm's grip instead. The worm released him before biting again, this time crying out his name as it did. "Zim, let go!"

"You're the one biting me!"

"No, I'm-" The worm let go again, before it grew hands to massage at his stomach. His stomach was transparent now, and stuffed full of skulls. Zim scrambled up, curling around it before the world began to shake.

"Wake up!" Dib's voice sounded more frantic and less sadistic, and also decidedly less Miyuki-like. Zim's head whipped around before he fell back and the world went bright.

It took a few moments for his eyes to adjust. Dib was straddled over him, sweaty and with a hand on both of Zim's shoulders.

"Gah!" Zim tried to scramble back, but only hit headboard. "Get away from us!"

Dib was breathing hard. "I've been trying to wake you up for the past five minutes- your Pak was glowing, you must have been having a nightmare!"

Zim snarled- so Dib thought he could trick him with more lies? He'd cleaned the blood off quickly, but he was good at doing things to fool Zim, to trick him the way he'd been doing for years. Zim twisted hard, then kicked out, nailing Dib in his gutmeats. Dib doubled over.

"Gah! Geez, what's your _deal? _"

"You can't have either of us, you rotten smelly cutty bloody-"

The color drained from Dib's face as he straightened back up. "Oh- oh boy. It involved me, didn't it?"

"You should know, you were just- just-" Zim's eyes darted around, antennae pressed flat against the top of his head. Things weren't shifting this time. "Count to fifteen."

"What?"

"Now!" Zim snapped, and Dib stiffened.

"One, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight-"

"Fine, that's fine." Zim wrapped his arms around himself. He was... he was in Dib's old shirt again, and could feel the material of his gloves on the bare skin of his arms. "This one is better, but you can't…"

"This isn't a dream." Dib reached over to the side table for his glasses. "Can you pinch yourself or something?"

Zim shook his head. "I can feel things in dreams. It's muted but there."

Dib winced. "Yikes. I've had a few nightmares that would be total _hell _like that. The demon tuna especially, although a few involve you too, I guess some things take a while to really penetrate your subconscious-"

"Tell me." Zim leaned forward, just as Dib leaned back, rubbing the back of his neck.

"I don't think you're really in the best frame of-"

"I want to know. Perhaps your human brain's imaginings are ridiculous enough that I'll be sure I'd never have thought of it."

Dib swished saliva around in his mouth for a few moments in thought. "Okay, here's one. I haven't had it in a while, but I dreamed about you dissecting me a good few times. But you had my dad's goggles instead of the ones you usually use. I can never hear what you're saying but you're pretty enthusiastic." A nervous grin stretched his face, all teeth. "Honestly, the older I get, the more I stopped worrying about that, you'd be pretty damn bored without me."

"No, no, I could think of that." Zim brushed away at the air. "What else?"

"Um, I had one where you were my brother once. That was weird mostly because nothing really happened, you just… were wearing my coat and we went to skool together. I think that was right before we started dating and were both still kind of confused about where this thing was going." He shrugged. "I also had a few where you were some other kind of paranormal creature, like a ghost or a mermaid or a demon. Boy, is there a story with _that _one."

As Dib spoke, Zim could feel his tensed muscles begin to unwind. Nothing had changed, and as he scanned the walls, the details were perfect. Of course, dreams were rare, so he couldn't rely on any single cue, but Dib sounded right, and the edges weren't all fuzzy like memory blended with dreams tended to be. "Hmm."

"Convinced this is real?" Dib asked, and Zim opened his mouth to reply before the smeet gave a particularly hard kick. His hand shifted down from his side to where they had moved.

"Mmm… yes." Zim decided aloud. "They're helping, though."

"That's good. Still nice and active?"

"For a half-human, they don't sleep much."

"Heh, yeah, no one in my family really gets the amount we're supposed to. Just never thought there were enough hours in the day." Dib scooted closer.

"There are when you don't have to sleep for half of it."

"Eight isn't half, and I usually get five anyways. Besides, _you_ took a three-hour nap earlier and who knows how long you were asleep before your flailing around woke me up?"

Zim shoved at him. "Shut your noise-hole, I'm only doing this to keep our smeet happy, they're draining all of my-" Dib's grin widened, and Zim stared. "What?"

"You said our."

"I did?"

"Yeah, you did." Dib pulled Zim into a hug, and Zim immediately started squirming.

"Let go of me!"

"Nope, it's hug time."

"It is not!" Zim tried to snarl, but he could feel his traitorous body already relaxing in Dib's grip. Cursed hormones! Dib let him go a few seconds later, eyes bright.

"I get why your brain was being all loopy and weird, hormones probably do that, but we can make a log later. For now, what do you say I try and make some waffles before Gir wakes up?"

Zim glanced over at the clock- the soft pulse read 8:42.

"That sounds just fine."


	30. Table Shavings

Dib couldn't help the smile still plastered on his face as the elevator rose. _"Our smeet…" _Something about the phrasing just made his chest hum like the Voot when it had just finished charging. They were really _making _something together. Okay, so Zim was doing most of the hard part, but Dib was having to deal with him being weirder than normal, and that wasn't nothing.

Zim's boots squeaked as he leaned against the little rail on the wall, the green of his skin washed out under the industrial light in the elevator. He yawned, and Dib yawned along with him, mouth closing before he'd even realized that it had opened. He probably should catch up on his sleep one of these days. Well, he'd gotten about five hours, that was pretty good. He was an adult now, adults needed less, right? Well, eighteen was still technically a teen too, so he was straddled on that weird line between teenhood and adulthood. Ah well.

Anyways. Zim's left antenna twitched as the elevator slowed to a stop in the living room, and he made his way over to the kitchen table, plopping his chin down on it.

"How long will this take?"

"About fifteen minutes." Dib opened the cabinets, letting out a sigh of relief- Gir hadn't gotten to the pancake mix. It was a good thing that he liked waffles too- it was possible he didn't want to ruin his own supply.

He plugged in the waffle iron and pulled out the applesauce and vegetable oil, fighting back another yawn- ugh, waking up before 9 am should be made into a crime. He'd only been out of hi skool for a couple of months and already didn't know how he'd survived it.

Honestly, he didn't remember falling asleep last night. He must have been more tired than he'd thought- at least he hadn't woken up with keyboard imprints in his cheeks like he'd done a dozen times before. It was starting to wear at the lettering on the keys themselves, along with the oils from his hands. This laptop had lasted two years, a personal record for him. Although that was probably because he'd bought back-ups for when he was in the field…

Man, he hadn't been able to go out and hunt anything for _months _, between work and Zim's pregnancy. He needed to do that soon, Tunaghost had made him promise her to get in contact at some point. He needed to keep the lines of communication open or she might dump the bombshell about him being with Zim, and they liked her more than they liked him, so they'd believe it.

Dib looked down and realized he'd beaten the batter pretty thoroughly.

Behind Dib, Zim was scratching into the table. When Dib turned around, he was picking at the wood, little shavings curling up under his glove. It was still weird to see his bare arms, especially since they were so _blank _. (Dib's own arms were pretty scarred up from years of fights with various paranormal creatures, and sometimes particularly aggressive bullies.) He had that alien healing factor from the Pak but… still, it was kind of unfair. Not for the first time, Dib wondered if he could get the benefits of a Pak without the whole 'die in ten minutes' thing. They still needed to finish one up for the kid, he'd have to study more on it. Maybe he could slow his aging down or something, that would be neat. Zim had barely changed in seven years, and the bomb he'd dropped about his age… the idea of Zim looking the same as he did now next to a stooped-over, gray-haired version of himself made Dib shudder.

Zim's antennae were still hanging kind of low, and Dib clicked his tongue.

"You okay? You were super freaked out when you were still asleep."

" 'M fine." Zim mumbled.

"Last time, you seemed to get over it fast but you're still being mopey a few minutes later." Dib held up the spoon, slicing through the air. "Is it because I was in it? 'Cutty'- it was something about dissecting you or the kid, wasn't it?"

Zim snarled, which meant that Dib had hit the nail right on the head.

"I'm not going to, for the record. I'm not going to dissect a kid, that's just sick, and- well, I guess if worst comes to worst I'd probably cut _you _open, but that's something that even humans do to each other if a baby isn't coming out right-"

Zim lobbed the small plastic squirrel Gir had been using as a table decoration at Dib's head, and it almost landed in the batter. "Hey!"

"Shut your noise-hole."

"I'm trying to help, sheesh." Dib had caught the squirrel with his elbow and flicked it unto the counter.

"Would _you _want to hear about being cut open two minutes after feeling it happen?" Zim ground out, and Dib was about to reply before the actual words sunk in.

Oh.

"No," He admitted, feeling sort of like there was a rock in his guts. "I guess not."

"Just make me my waffles." Zim returned his chin to the table, picking at the wood again. He started making a little pile of the shavings. Dib stuck his tongue out in concentration, folding the batter over itself. When it looked to be the right amount lumpy consistency, he rummaged around in the cabinet again.

"Aha! Almost forgot."

"What? What is it?" Zim looked up, and Dib held up a half-finished container of oreos.

"I always mix in a few of these at home." Dib crumbled three cookies into the batter, stirring it again until it sort of looked like gooier cookie dough ice cream, then poured about a fourth of it into the waffle iron.

"Perhaps you have _some _taste." Zim admitted, and Dib smirked.

"Of course I do. How's junior doing?"

"Settled down a little." Zim said. "Although I suspect they'll be active again once I've had my-" His eyes widened. "The mutation!"

"What?" Dib crossed the kitchen in two strides, grabbing Zim's shoulders. "When did- _what? _"

"I had the Pak do a scan, and it said that there were mutations inside of the spooch!"

Dib swallowed. "What kind?"

"I don't know!"

"Can you- can't we make another hologram like the ultrasound but on the inside?" It was mutated. Of course it was, it was hybridizing a _very _alien species with humans- and a human who already was a clone to boot, so who knew what kind of health problems he'd have hidden deep in his DNA besides his bad eyesight? Yeah, Dad had promised he'd fix that kind of thing if it popped up, but still- still it was going to be there!

Zim nodded. "We can certainly try."

Dib grabbed his wrist, dragging him towards the elevator again. Zim didn't resist, hurrying along with him across the neon tiles.

The ride down felt like eons, every moment ticking by with Dib's heart beating heavily in his chest and Zim tugging at the fabric of his shirt.

"You're going to be fine, I swear I didn't deal with _any _other smeets that made as much trouble before their first year as you, and you aren't even born yet…!"

They hurried towards the med bay again, Zim climbing on top of one of the tables.

"Computer-"

**"Yeah, I heard you upstairs. Give me a second." **The scanner popped out of the wall, the shade a slightly darker pink than Dib remembered it being as Zim tugged up the borrowed shirt. **"So I'm looking at ****_their _****organs, not yours?"**

"Correct." Zim said, both hands digging into the irken surgical steel. Dib's own fingernails were pushed so far into his palms that they were probably bleeding. He couldn't tell over the swimming in his head.

Yeah, he'd known this was a possibility, but being faced with it _directly… _

They hadn't even started thinking of _names _yet. What if it didn't survive? What if it was born without a mouth or whatever the equivalent of a heart was?

"Come on, it said you'd live…" Zim narrowed his eyes, and Dib slapped a hand to his face, dragging it down.

Or what if Zim just forgot to mention very crucial information.

"So you _know _it's going to be okay?"

"It was going to survive. It didn't say for how long."

"Time to panic again then." Dib paced in a tight circle and Zim kept talking to his stomach before a hologram fizzled into the air between them..

**"Well, they aren't going to die," **The computer said. **"Their organs are a genetic hodgepodge of irken and human, that's why your Pak said it was a mutation."**

The concern in Dib's chest eeked out like helium from a balloon. "So they'll be fine?"

**"Don't ask me. ****_You're _****the two that decided to make the thing. But it seems that they'll survive, yes."**

"See? There was nothing to worry about! You got me all worked up over nothing!" Zim glared at Dib.

"Hey, you didn't tell me you already knew it was going to be fine, you worried me more than-"

**"Hey, the organs are developed enough now I can tell the sex. Want to know?"**

Dib froze. "Uh-"

"Pssh, that doesn't really matter." Zim waved a hand. "Details, details. We need a good name before we pick one of those out."

"People usually want a gender before they pick a name- or they pick a couple and see." Dib gnawed on his lower lip until he tasted iron, considering. "Sure, go ahead."

The hologram zoomed in on the lower stomach area. Wow, it really _was _a weird mix, but it definitely leaned more irken- it seemed almost like a squeedlyspooch but with more defined individual areas for each separate organ function. He didn't _want _to dissect them, but just a few x-rays could do wonders to explain the difference in biology between-

"Huh, that little pouch…" Zim tapped his chin. "Is that-"

**"Yep. It's a girl. Congratulations." **

"A girl…" Dib stared, running his hand along the edge of the hologram. It blurred wherever his fingers touched.

"Well, that's if the parts are even what we think they are. It's a mess in there," Zim said, and Dib shook out of his awe.

"Yeah, I guess, so we should probably have a couple names picked out just in case." He took a step back. "I'll take this over them just having half human parts that don't attach properly to the squeedlyspooch. That would be pretty terrible."

"Did we not _just _go over this? Don't talk about disasters!" Zim tugged at his antennae, and Dib walked over to him.

"Sorry. It'll be fine, they'll- er, _she'll _get through this if she's even half as resilient as you are."

Zim perked up a little. "Yes, of course. A survivor, that's what we both are." He poked at the hologram, watching it ripple under his touch.

It pulsed slightly when Zim pulled away, and Dib was about to set his hand on Zim's shoulder when an alarm started going off.

**"The waffle iron caught fire. Figured you'd want to know," **The computer said dryly, and Dib swore.


	31. Hair

"Yeah. Yeah, that sounds fine." Dib's finger tapped out a beat on his knee as he pressed the phone against his ear. "Okay, see you then. Bye, Dad. Good luck with that robot cockroach uprising." He ended the call, turning to Zim. "Looks like the shower's on."

"You need a shower more than I do." Zim had his arms folded, and Dib sighed.

"It's not an _actual _shower. The idea if just having people give the m- er, _parent _some presents of stuff they'll need for the kid."

"Presents?" Zim straightened up. "I want presents."

"I don't know if they'll bring any, but it's possible. It's mostly just because Dad started texting me asking if he could send anything else because I turned in the last of the robotics stuff and he wanted to give me the packet for the bio sector. If he sees how much you need me, he'll probably keep the work light, so this'll just be for him and Gaz. It's not like _you _have any other friends, and I'm not inviting any Eyeballs. As long as you keep your disguise on, he won't notice anything."

"Of _course _he won't, this disguise has served me well for this long," Zim said. "What else happens during these 'showers?' "

"There's a few games, and some desserts, I guess? Sometimes they share if it's a boy or a girl, and I didn't tell Gaz yet, so I guess we can tell them then. Dad will probably just send the screen, but that's fine." Dib stretched. "I don't think they'll stay long enough to care about games, and Gaz will bring her Gameslave anyway. They'll be here at four."

"They'll be-_ today? _"

"Dad told said this was the only time he could get off, and Gaz has game club after skool tomorrow," Dib said. "I told Gaz I'd get a cake so she'll come."

"I need to clean the living room again!" Zim hurried over to the closet, throwing aside the parts of the robodad to strap on his goggles and pull out a mop.

"I'll go deal with the cake. Try not to pull a muscle or Dad will think I'm "not treating you properly.' " He made air quotes. "Like he can talk…"

"I can handle myself," Zim scoffed, arching his back and wincing at the crack.

"I'll be back in an hour. Don't die on me." Dib patted his pockets to make sure he had his wallet on him. He heard the wet squish of the mop before he closed the door behind him, and hoped Zim wasn't soaking the whole living room- it had taken nearly all day to dry last time.

There was a grocery store that he'd seen do same-day cake decorations before, as long as it was simple- that was how he'd gotten most of his cakes, honestly. Either him or Gaz had gone in for a small one on the day of their birthdays, with some money shoved at them while Dad was distracted.

"I'm not gonna make them get their own birthday stuff," Dib mumbled to himself, kicking at a bottle cap and watching it spin as it rolled before hitting a weed and falling over. "Or- her. It's a her." Not for the first time, he wondered what she'd look like. Maybe she'd have purple hair- he'd seen a picture of his grandma once, and he was pretty sure she had purple hair like Gaz. That would be kind of cute, but so would black.

Or what if she looked mostly irken? Her insides were an amalgam of irken and human parts, but Zim's body had made her out of sheer force of will and some weird hormonal mix-up, so he wouldn't be surprised if she was more irken than human. She had antennae, that was for sure from what the computer had said… what else was there?

"Number of fingers and toes, eyes, teeth, tongue, hair both on the head and on the body…" Dib started counting off on his fingers. "All of them could vary, irken or human or something in-between. Depending on how irken she turns out we might need a disguise… although I guess we could just say she's sick or really ugly and people would probably buy it, considering how little they care about Zim."

He shivered- the days were about to tip over into December, and although his trench coat was mostly warm, it was also old and starting to fray. He'd need to get another one, or at least pick up a few more from his closet at home. A fuzzy chill had settled over his hands, and he stuffed them further into his pockets, puffing out a fog of warm breath before nudging the door of the store open.

He headed right for the bakery, scanning the smaller cakes already on display. Hmm. He should have asked what Zim could eat. Vanilla should be fine, right? Gaz liked it and Dad probably wasn't going to show up in person so it didn't really matter much. He decided on one that was labeled vanilla with chocolate frosting, and set it on the counter. The man behind it popped his gum as he watched Dib fumble for his wallet.

"Is it for an occasion that you'd like to have written on top?"

"It's for- eh, 'congratulations' would be fine."

"Do you want to add a name, or have the writing in a specific color?"

"Purple is good. He'd like his name, so I guess 'congratulations, Zim'. Z-I-M." Dib was pretty sure Zim would strangle him if he mentioned the kid to the strangers at the store.

"Hey, Betty! Cake!"

"Yeah, yeah, I'm coming!" A woman with gray hair shuffled out from the kitchen. "Anything fancy?"

"Nah, just a name," The man said.

Betty flashed Dib a smile. "Alright then, sugar. Just give me a few minutes." She took the cake and the piece of paper from the counter man, who Dib finally noticed was wearing a nametag that said 'Jee.' Huh. Well, he'd seen plenty of weirder names.

Dib started flipping through the cake catalog. Wow, they had a lot of designs in there. Movies, sports, tv shows… how did anyone who planned in advance for this kind of thing decide between all of them? He'd gotten one with a little ghost on it once, but he'd had to ask for it himself and it had looked more like a tissue with eyes because the person who frosted it had shaky hands. These were so much neater because they were full prints.

"Does that look good?" He looked up at Betty's voice. She had written in big, blocky letters, covering half the top of the cake.

"Yeah, that's fine. How much will that be?"

"Twenty-five fifty."

"Got it." Dib pulled out twenty-six dollars and handed them over. "Just keep the change."

"No problem, hun. You have a nice day now. Be careful not to drop it."

"I'll try." Dib found himself smiling before his face fell when he realized he'd forgotten to bring a bag. He'd have to carry it back without one.

He needed more groceries anyway, but that was for tomorrow Dib to deal with, considering he couldn't carry much of anything on top of the cake without smushing the writing, and it might break a normal plastic bag. He grabbed a few little balloons by the register so Dad wouldn't complain he'd done nothing for the 'party'. He paid for them and tied them around his wrist so he didn't have to hold them before heading out.

The walk back was hurried along by the clouds starting to gather overhead. Dib was grateful for his long legs, managing to make it back to the base just before the rain started.

Gir was settled on the blanket pile that had been pushed to one corner, sucking on a lollipop. Zim had taken the goggles off, but was scrubbing the kitchen table in bright yellow gloves. Dib raised an eyebrow.

"You know they won't care, right? Our house looks way worse."

"_I _care! It has to be clean or it- won't be!"

"Well, I got a cake." Dib waited for Zim to lower the sponge to set the cake down, the plastic container making a wobbly noise as he did. Zim craned his neck to see.

"'_Congratulations, Zim?' _"

"I wasn't really sure what to write."

"That's- that's fine." Zim stared at it for a few seconds too long, and Dib scanned his face as the middle of it wrinkled, the bottoms of Zim's eyes scrunching up.

"Wait, are you- are you _crying? _"

"No, there's just soap in my eye!" Zim scrubbed furiously at his face- which wasn't exactly the best idea, as the gloves were still soaked in soap. "Gah!"

Dib couldn't help a grin. "Well, _now _it's soap."

"Your face-hole needs to stop making noises or I'll _make _it stop." Zim yanked the gloves off with a snap, tossing them at Dib.

"You're being hormonal, aren't you?"

"I am not! I simply haven't had earth-cake in a while."

"Suuuuuure. We have time for a log before they show up." Dib held up his phone, waving it around, and the balloons on his wrist bounced off of each other. Zim huffed, one hand on his stomach.

"What if I don't want to?"

"We haven't done one in over a week- we were going to the other day but got distracted by the waffle iron nearly setting the kitchen on fire. Besides, you need to put your disguise on for Dad. Although honestly, he probably wouldn't notice even if you didn't…"

"Fine," Zim grumbled, sliding off the chair and heading over to the dresser where he kept the extra contacts and wig. "But I'm not going to like it."

"It'll be helpful later!" Dib said, tying the balloons to the chair settling down in the blanket-and-pillow pile that had been pushed to the size. Zim perked up a little at seeing Dib had chosen the nest over the couch, shifting the wig around on his head before curling up next to him.

"Okay, log seven," Dib started. "It's November 28th, and Dad and Gaz are coming over soon for a pseudo-baby shower. Mostly it's to prove to Dad that I'm not just skipping out on work, but Gaz _did _say she wanted cake. We'll have to keep Gir away from it until they're gone, or at least until they have a piece." Dib said. "Zim was being obsessive about cleaning again because they were coming over, but that might have just been a convenient excuse."

"Was not," Zim said, looking away.

"And on top of that, he almost cried at the cake for 'congratulations Zim'."

"I did not!" Zim reached for the camera. "Dib is telling filthy lies, and I want that on the record!"

"I'm just noting what's happening!" Dib held it up, and Zim's arm waved as he stretched for it before stepping on Dib's thigh to get a better angle. "Holy- _wow _, you're heavy now!"

"I wouldn't be if I wasn't carrying your fat-headed smeet in my- ah!" Zim pulled a cable out of his Pak, and used it to knock the phone out of Dib's grip. He fumbled for it, but luckily it landed on a pillow, unharmed. Zim managed to grab it first, sticking his tongue out at Dib.

"Hey, you wanted them- _her _to be tall, that means she's going to be big." Dib crossed his arms, and Zim aimed the camera at his own stomach.

"Well, she's- er, about sixty-nine percent done, when I last checked. She's still leaving marks on me, and won't stop that infernal moving when I'm trying to do something else."

"I saw you humming to yourself when you were using the computer in the lab the other day- oh, and you called her 'ours' recently too. You like her, don't pretend you don't." Dib patted Zim's stomach, getting a swat with Zim's phoneless hand.

"Of _course _I don't mind her, why else would I let her be growing in me when she's causing such problems?"

"I wonder what she's going to be like." Dib's hand settled on a blanket just next to Zim's exposed skin. "Do you think she'll have hair?"

"I hope not, yours smells terrible." Zim's face kind of wrinkled up again and Dib lightly elbowed him.

"You're just sensitive."

"I've heard your sister complain about it too."

"Gaz doesn't count, siblings are _supposed _to rib each other." Dib rolled his eyes. "Anyways… we'll just have to see when she comes out."

"We will." Zim nodded. "I would say it's the chemical imbalances she's causing that's making you seem both more and less repulsive than usual, but otherwise my behavior-."

Dib raised an eyebrow. "Zim, no offense, but if I didn't know you were pregnant I wouldn't even think twice about half of this stuff you're doing. You were already a neat freak and kind of hormonal."

"Lies!" Zim pointed with the phone.

"Believe whatever you want. I'm still here, aren't I? It's just part of who you are, I'm used to it by now." Dib shrugged. "That footage is going to be _terrible_, by the way. You're moving the camera around way too much."

Zim glared at him, and Dib watched him attempt to steady the phone. His arm was kind of noodley. "Hey, seriously, you okay?"

"Of course I am!"

"Uh… when was the last time you ate? I know that's the one I forget a lot. Besides sleep, but you're not having any problems with that…"

Zim thought for a moment. "This morning, or last night. One or the other."

"Okay, that's not too bad. I'll put the balloons up, you have something. I don't want you passing out in Gaz's lap."

Zim shuddered. "That would be… _horrible _."

Dib grabbed the camera back as Zim tried to tug the shirt back down. It was already growing tight- Dib would need to get him another, bigger one. Honestly, at this point, he could probably wear one of Dib's regular shirts. Man, was _that_ a weird thought. "Alright, so if we're lucky it'll be just about a month to go, maybe a little more. Gaz and Dad will be here in about an hour. Dib out."


	32. Baby Shower

Dib watched as Gir rummaged through the couch, the little tail on his dog suit wagging as he reached behind the cushions with his tongue sticking out, the ears on the hood flopping around with every little movement. "How do you even _move _that?"

"Huh?"

"The tail. You don't normally have a tail, but you seem to have control over it. Is there a magnet in it or something?"

Gir pulled out a piece of lint-covered candy, popping it in his mouth and shrugging. "I'unno. You're a pretty clown."

Dib raised a hand to his cheeks- sure enough, they were warm and probably flushed. "Oh, huh. It's not hot in here, what am I…? There haven't been any big problems with the kid the past few days, maybe it's seeing Gaz? I haven't been away from her this long since that summer camp. But she's fine, there's nothing I need to think about since she's been self-sufficient since we were kids."

Gir nodded sagely at that. "Uh-huh."

"Although, she's moving into adulthood, which can be confusing… she would call me if she had any problems, right? She seemed fine on the phone…" Dib started to pace, and Gir followed him, mimicking the hand that had drifted over to his mouth as he walked in circles.

"Gaz will be fine. She's more than capable."

Dib looked up to see Zim pointing a spoon at him. He had a container of ice cream with a smiling irken symbol on the side, and little droplets were sliding down his glove. His gaze always looked more pointed when he had the contacts on, since he had actual pupils, and Dib rubbed the back of his neck.

"Yeah, yeah, you're right."

"Of course I am. You should already know this, you've spent more time with her than I have, but frankly, I'd say she's even more of a formidable warrior than you are."

"Gee, thanks."

Zim swallowed a particularly large bite just as there was a series of thuds on the door. One two three, pause. Four five six, louder this time.

Definitely Gaz. Dib yanked Gir's hood over the robot's head, if only because last time they'd met Dad had just gushed over his robotics instead of noticing that he was alien tech, and he didn't want to deal with that today. He smoothed down the collar of his trench coat before glancing back at Zim, who was shoving the carton (spoon and all) into the freezer.

"Dib, come on!" Gaz sounded the same as ever, at least.

"Coming!" Dib hurried over to the door, pulling it open. As he'd expected, Dad had sent the screen- it _had _been pretty short notice. Gaz sniffed at the air, shifting the straps of her backpack.

"Is that pine?"

"Yeah, Zim got a new cleaner," Dib said.

"What an interesting sense of style!" Membrane flew into the living room, looking around. "So many bright colors. It stimulates the senses, to be sure."

"Dib-father." Zim walked around the table to meet him and nodded his head. "Good to see you."

"And you as well! It's been too long, but when the world is always at stake, it's so difficult to find time for pleasantries."

Dib had never noticed the static hum the screen had- maybe they'd pulled out an old one, the new one got glitches with updates sometimes. "We have cake."

Gaz had already crossed the living room to claim a piece, settled on the chair so her backpack wasn't smushed, and Gir started humming what appeared to be a mangled version of the James Bond theme as his eyes followed her. Zim winced as he saw her cut a piece, but after opening his mouth he seemed to think better of whatever he was about to say.

After following his sister, Dib sawed at the cake with the knife, getting crumbs and frosting on the side of his hand. He stuck a fork in it, setting it on the plate underneath the tiny teleporter before hitting the button. A few moments later, a green light lit up against the goggles on Membrane's face, and he held up the cake.

"Hey, my fork!" Zim complained.

"There's a whole set in the drawer with like fifteen forks. Two people live here. You do the math," Dib said as he made a piece for himself, licking the crumbs off his hand.

"Three soon," Gaz pointed out.

"Five, if we count Gir and Minimoose," Zim added.

"Minimoose doesn't even eat."

"Gir eats enough for two," Zim said smugly, as if he was winning some argument Dib hadn't realized they were having. His wig slid back on his skull when he whipped his head around as Gaz prodded at his side.

"Geez, you're huge."

"Eh?" He adjusted the wig, attempting to brush her arm off of him.

"I said you're huge. You've still got like a month to go, right?" She tilted her head to the side as Zim scooted his chair away from her.

"Yes, but what does it matter to you?"

"Oh, it doesn't. I just was curious if you were going to blow up. Dib's a lot bigger than you, after all, and if he's the dad..." She puffed out her cheeks, and Zim scowled.

"I am not! My skin has stretched further than this before, and I'm _certainly _not-"

"She's joking, Zim." Dib rolled his eyes. "You're not going to blow up."

"That reminds me! How long have you two known?" The screen floated closer,

"Three months," Zim said.

"Three? You look much further along than that. Is there more than one?"

"Or- er, how long _has _it been, human boyfriend?" Zim looked over at Dib, who was dragging his hand down his face.

Dib shoved a forkful of cake into Zim's mouth to shut him up. "It _has _been three months, he's due in about one. I moved in to monitor him. We have no idea what the complications could be with a hybrid, since, for the millionth time, Zim's an alien. That's why his gestation is much shorter than a human's."

Membrane sighed. "Must you really-"

"It's what's really going on," Dib said through gritted teeth. A month of being away from the labs and allowed to complete work at his own pace had allowed the feeling of being shut down to begin to dull. "I would have said something before now, wouldn't I?"

"You do enjoy hearing yourself talk." There was a little clink from the screen's microphone as the plate was set down. "5C needs me, I'll be back later." The feed cut to the ML logo and Dib's forehead hit the table.

"Why did I think this was a good idea?"

"I'm not sure." Gaz shrugged. "It's Dad, you know him." She reached into her backpack, pulling out a book and dropping it on the table. Dib turned his face so his cheek was pressed against the grain. He could see Zim craning his neck around Gaz to see what it was, frosting dotting his lips.

Dib peeled his face off the table to see what the book was.

" 'Cooking for Idiots?' "

"I found it when I was looking for my old bat with the spikes in the basement and figured you'd need it so the kid won't starve to death."

Dib ran his fingers along the spine- yeah, it definitely had water damage, it must have been the part of the lab Dad never touched anymore. Both him and Gaz had long since claimed it as a dumping ground split by a table, and if the book was there, Gaz must have memorized it years ago.

Flipping through it, at least most of it was legible and adequately idiot-proof. He'd probably be able to make most of this stuff. Hell, _Zim _probably could.

Gaz had gone back to her cake, and Zim was currently on his- checking what was left, _third _slice. Well, he could work the knife on his own, he dissected things all the time.

Dib forked some of his own cake, watching the two of them. From this angle, he could see that Gaz had at least one earbud in, hidden behind her hair.

By the time Dib almost finished his slice, Gir had dragged himself over on his butt. Dib handed him the plate with one bite left, and he squealed, starting to lick at the crumbs.

"So, are they going to be mutated?" Gaz asked as she idly dragged the fork along the plate.

"What?"

"You're a human. Zim's an alien. Nothing got mixed up?" The fork twirling around the ceramic was making a terrible noise. Zim winced behind her, but from where he was looking, he was distracting himself from the sound by being grossed out from how messy Gir was.

"Well, her organs are going to be pretty messed up, but I was surprised there weren't any apparent outward mutations yet."

"Her?" Gaz asked.

"Oh, that was the other thing I was going to tell you! We're pretty sure it's going to be a girl. Any tips?"

"Don't force her into anything she doesn't like or risk getting your ass kicked when she grows up," Gaz said with a shrug.

"What would your advice have been if it was a boy?" Dib asked.

"The same."

"Oh."

Zim stood up, arching his back. Gaz turned to look at him, scanning him up and down.

"You might want to wash that shirt twice, you know. Dib sometimes wore shirts for a week at a time."

Zim waved a hand. "I've cleaned it more than adequately, Gaz-sister."

She shrugged, standing up and handing her plate to Gir, who had finished with Dib's and had moved on to gnawing on the table leg. He gasped, looking up at her with wide eyes, but she had already moved over to the living room.

"Think Dad will come back online?" Dib asked, glancing over at the screen.

"What do _you _think?"

"...Yeah, you can probably go." Dib sighed. "I'll wait until he bugs me about coming in to get my bio assignments. Thanks for coming over and for the book, at least."

She pulled out her Gameslave and whistled. The screen zipped over. "Yeah, yeah. I can prep for Santa without you, so you don't need to come home for Christmas unless you want to."

"I'll think about it." Dib raked a hand through his hair. "Geez, I better make sure the base has enough weapons, that'll be close to his due date and we'll still need to prep the lab for birth-"

"And that's my cue." Gaz turned to the door.

"I'll see you later, then?"

"Mm." She nodded, tapping the earbud. "Good luck with not dying if they're a chestburster."

"What's that?" Zim asked, just as Gaz shut the door.

"Yeah, let's hope not," Dib mumbled as Zim rounded the table.

"Dib, what's that?"

"I think I showed you those movies before? It's from a movie, aliens lay eggs in a human and then they burst out when they're born, killing the host."

Zim's green skin turned an interesting shade. "They'd better not!"

"Relax, I'm sure you've got some kind of birthing canal. If not, I can probably knock you out and cut them out."

Zim curled his arms around his stomach. "That's the last resort and you know it, I don't want you rummaging around in my insides."

"I know-"

"Your hands are sticky even after you wash them, and sweaty, and stink of human-"

Dib sighed. "Will you drop the subject if I don't take any of the rest of the cake?"

Zim's eyes were still narrowed, but he nodded.

"I could just have taken if I wanted."

"I know, but it's the principle of the thing." Dib popped the plastic lid back on. There wasn't much of it left anyway, but he'd liked that type of cake.

Ah well. Little sacrifices.


	33. Buddy!

Zim pulled a blanket around his shoulders, looking up from the screen with a yawn. 3:45 pm… he shouldn't be this tired already. He'd recharged _yesterday_, for the Tallest's sake! And he'd already finished off the cake from the smeeting shower the other day, so the sugar should have given him enough energy. This was clearly a human problem, as no _reasonable _smeet would have drained him this much. It was her Dibbish-ness poking its oversized head up again.

She was getting big, almost uncomfortably so. He'd tried to pull his uniform on the other day to see if it even still fit, and even trying to tug it down it left open a thick strip of skin between his leggings and the bottom of it, which wouldn't do. He was definitely limited to Dib's clothes for the next month. Great. At least they'd all been run through the wash, but…. the Earth fabric was beginning to grow on him. Maybe he'd have to keep a few even after she was born. He deserved it after dealing with all of this.

He snuggled at the coat wrapped around his shoulder, the blanket tickling the nape of his neck. Why was the base so _cold t_oday? Even Dib's coat under the blanket wasn't enough to fix the chill that had settled into his bones. He pulled his knees up to his stomach, before groaning at the warm skin there- of course, _she _was stealing all of the heat from his body, sucking at him like a soda.

"Can't you take heat from the blankets and not me?"

She didn't respond at that- not even a kick. Typical. She might be as disobedient as Gir at this rate.

If she was going to be uncooperative, he might as well try and fix the energy problem. He slid off the chair and stretched, Dib's coat almost trailing along the floor. How _had _he nearly doubled in size in only seven years? Zim had witnessed it in real-time of course, but wearing clothes that were longer than his whole body really drove the point home. Dib had shot up like a _weed_, tall and strong and digging his roots into every part of Zim's life.

Still… Zim rolled up the sleeves and tugged at the hem as he headed over to the lift, feeling rather like he was wearing a cape. The scent of the coat, soaked in Dib's closet, was somehow better than Dib himself tended to be. Same smell, less human sweat and other general bodily fluids.

When the lift deposited him on the ground floor, Dib was nowhere to be seen. Where- oh, right he had gone to the store to get more food. Well, that was something good. As if it had just been reminded, Zim's stomach growled.

"I was merely going to have a snack. Didn't I _just _feed you an hour ago?" He stared down at the curve, the symbol of a little ghost with a red circle around it stretched over the smeet inside. Again, she made no reply. Zim pulled open the fridge before groaning- right, this was why Dib had gone shopping, there was nothing of any worth there.

There was half a jar of rotting pickles that Zim threw out immediately and a tiny bit of milk, but everything else was just empty containers probably left by Gir. How long ago had Dib passed by and said he was going out? It hadn't been long, Zim was pretty sure- and he'd said he was going to stock up on weapons for Santa defense 'In case the base's stuff freezes up, come on, you know it does.' (Just because Zim hadn't quite fixed that bug that happened under 0 degrees didn't mean that he wanted Dib to bring it _up _.) He could be gone for hours, and Zim was hungry _now_.

There was only one thing to do. Gir was who-knew-where, and a quick glance out the windows showed that at least it wasn't snowing. Dib's coat wasn't warm enough for the chill in his limbs, so he shrugged it off, tossed it into the nest currently piled up next to the tv, and rummaged around for the parka he'd sprung for three years prior. He heard Robomom's head roll on the closet floor as he pulled the parka on. It was dark red, which was nice after weeks of Dib's largely blue and black clothes.

Zim tried to zip it up, but he'd been considerably less smeet-filled when he'd gotten it, and it took four tries to finally pull it over his middle. It still had an awkward bulge, but at least it was closed now. He needed to get a new one...

He pulled on his wig and contacts, then grabbed a wad of money either Dib or Gir had dropped by the door. He could replace it when Dib returned.

A scarf had been stuffed into the pocket of the parka, and Zim wrapped it around his mouth before pulling the door open. It stunk of smoke and alcohol- Gir must have had it at some point, that was usually what he smelled like when he came back from those rave-thingies.

There was a convenience store that was about a five-minute walk from the base, but Zim underestimated just how few people shoveled their sidewalks- he had to resort to just walking in the streets after nearly faceplanting when he stepped on a roller skate. _This_ was why he usually sent Gir and Minimoose on supply runs in winter.

"Zim?" A voice boiling over with enough cheer to explode a Slorbius called from behind him.

Oh,_ no. _

Zim tried to shuffle along faster, but it was no use- every one of his former classmates had gained at least a foot on him, and this one was no exception, making it infuriatingly easy for a hand to grip his shoulder.

"Keef," Zim ground out like he could squash the person it belonged to between his teeth.

Keef grinned, bright braces sparkling from the reflection off the snow. He was in a bright blue jacket and snow pants. "Hey, I haven't seen you since graduation! You look good, buddy!"

"And you still have a mouth full of sharp wires." Zim stuffed his hands further into his pockets, glancing back. Keef wasn't as tall as Dib, but having to tilt his head back just soured Zim's mood even further than the oversaturated sickly feelings dealing with Keef _normally _incited. "Didn't you get buried in the stand collapse at the kicking ball game last June?"

"I managed to crawl out! Lucky, huh?" Keef reached into his own horrible mouth, tugging at the rubber bands and making one snap. "Heh, yeah, still have 'em, but I'm getting 'em out in a few weeks. My Grandma says it'll be worth it to have the best smile I can, and that's a pretty good thing to go for, huh?"

"Yes, yes. What do you want from me?"

"Just to catch- oh, _wow_, I didn't see you from the front before." Keef's stride had outstripped Zim's, and his eyes were now glued to Zim's middle. "Did you gain weight? It's kinda cute on you, all squishy-like! Does Dib like it? Are you two still together? I bet you are, you two were inseparable, I was _so _happy to see you finally admit it!"

Zim's eye twitched. "No, it isn't-"

"It isn't? Is it a tumor or something? That'd be the _worst _." Keef scratched his head. "But if it was that big you probably wouldn't be walking around-"

"It's none of your business," Zim snapped, crossing his arms at the top of the curve. "It's for me and Dib, not-"

Keef lit up. "So you two _are _still together! Good, after that whole thing at Graduation with the heat ray, I wasn't sure! If you're good, then _I'm _good, you know that, right? I'm still open in case you ever-"

Zim kicked Keef in the shin. It probably would have been more effective if he hadn't been wearing snow pants. "Our opinions haven't changed, _Keef _."

Keef didn't even seem to hear the venomous tone Zim spoke with. "Well, you know how to contact me if you do! Anyway, so what is this? You've never really changed in all the years I knew you, so it's pretty weird." He prodded at Zim's stomach, and Zim swatted his hand away.

"It's called personable space!"

"You mean personal space?"

"Yes, yes, that! Plenty of it!" Zim took a step back.

"Ooooh, is this one of your alien things?"

"No, this is not- I'm a normal human!"

Keef tilted his head. "I'm not gonna tell anyone- you know that I know, right? You admitted it waaaaaay back in elementary school. Plus those cool eyes you gave me are kind of X-ray, which are neat. _Boy _did they freak out the optometrist when I had to get a check-up, though." He was still grinning, why was he still grinning? "The fact that you've hung around this long means you have to like us, doesn't it? C'mon, I promise I won't tell anyone if you just tell me. It's not something that'll kill you, right?"

"No, it-"

"Is it eggs? I think that's a thing aliens do, right?" Keef tapped his chin. "Hmm, or maybe you're going to molt or something! I dunno, Dib was always better at this sort of thing. I never got as deep into your house as he did."

"Get out of my way, I need to get to the store." Zim tried to side-step Keef to the left, who moved in front of him with ease. A step to the right, the same. The uncomfortable lopsided heat regulation was starting to even out- now his torso _and _his limbs felt like a sauna.

If his Pak ports weren't starting to freeze he'd just shoot him. Plus they were in the middle of the street, but- details, details.

"I can walk you there! Which one are you going to?"

"Did I say the store? I meant the- the dump!"

Keef didn't falter. "Sure, that works too! I was just walking home anyway, my Grandma can wait."

Zim's eye twitched again as Keef leaned over him again. "Is it something you're keeping a secret? I'm good at keeping secrets."

Zim took a step to the side- just as the smeet gave the hardest kick he'd felt from her. His eyes went wide and both hands flew to the middle spooch, a groan slipping out of his mouth before he even registered it.

Keef's instantly followed. "Woah, you okay? Did you eat something bad? Is it-" He cut himself off mid-word as even through the parka he could feel faint movement. "Wait, is that-" His voice nearly tripled in pitch. "A _baby? _"

"Of course not! Don't be ridiculous!"

Somehow, his stupid grin got even _wider _. "Oh, no wonder you didn't want to say anything- it's going to be a surprise to everyone else, isn't it? It's Dib's, I bet- oh, you two would make the _cutest _kid!"

"If I never see any of our classmates again, it'll be too soon." Zim raised an eyebrow- one thing he enjoyed about the contacts was if he stared enough, most people would shrink away. Not Keef, apparently.

"Really? That's not a very nice thing to say. I guess they were never really that nice to _you_, though, but it's still a shame. Anyway, though, are you getting baby supplies?"

"No. I'm getting food." Sweat was starting to drip down his back.

"Well, food's important too! Geez, were you already pregnant at graduation? You look pretty big. You're kind of short though, so I guess it would look-"

"Will you quit it?" Zim snapped. "She's overheating me, and if I don't get something in the next ten seconds, I'm going to rip your lips off with my bare hands."

"Oh, wow." Keef took half a step back. "Do you want a suckmunkey or something? I'll pay."

"No. Those horrible things burn. Get me pixie sticks."

Keef gave a thumbs up. "Got it! Be right back. There's a bench over there, you sit down, okay?" He clasped his hands together. "And you said 'she', oh, a little girl! You can dress those up and dance with 'em and-"

Zim's stomach growled, and Keef shook his head to clear it. "Right, right, I'll go. Be right back!" He ran off, snow pants making shuffling noises as he did. Zim immediately started the other way. He wasn't about to stick around for-

The sweat was pooling in his leggings. Something was wrong with his Pak's thermal regulators. Groaning, he turned to flop on the bench, brushing it off halfheartedly. Luckily the snow was light enough that the parka kept it from burning when he sat down.

He was going to _strangle _Dib for letting the food get low enough that he had to even get into this. He was the one who had said he'd do anything to help, and now Zim had to talk to _Keef _even more. On top of that, Zim felt like an overheated burrito two seconds before it exploded in the microwave, spewing burrito guts all over the walls.

He tugged at the zipper, fanning himself with his hand. These Pak malfunctions were terrible- he'd pop it off and fix them if the cable in the lab hadn't been gnawed into oblivion by Gir after one particularly late night last week.

"Here you go!" Keef returned fast- or maybe Zim had fuzzed out for a few minutes. Either way, he snatched the flavored sugar, tearing the top off of two at once with his teeth.

Huh, they tasted… not that bad. Instead of spitting it out, he swallowed the paper before tipping the tubes up and letting the granules fall into his mouth. His stomach gurgled a little when he finished, and he drummed on it with a free hand. Something was still missing. After a moment's thought, he balled up the paper tubes and popped them into his mouth too, chewing before feeling the sticky, gooey mass travel down his throat.

Keef was sucking on his own little stick. "Is that a craving or something?"

Zim sucked some of the dropped sugar off the thumb of his glove, before realizing what he was doing and stuffing it into his parka's pocket. "Of course not."

"Really? I didn't know you liked paper. I had a cousin who liked eating paper, but I'm not supposed to talk about him since he-"

"I'm going home." He was still hungry, but at least his stomach had settled a little with the sugar, and he could already feel his Pak processing it.

"Can I come? Do you have a nursery yet?"

Zim's fingers dug into his palms, claws nearly piercing the material of his gloves. "Keef?"

"Yeah, buddy?"

"How about you go get us some burgers?"

Keef beamed. "Sure! You like the veggie ones, right? Because you don't seem to eat a lot of meat, when I watched you during lunch."

"Yes, the veggie ones, perfect. I'll be waiting right here."

Keef ran off again, and Zim had to rummage around for an agonizing minute before his Pak finally responded and allowed him to pull out the laser gun. He aimed it at a tree, and grinned at the crash when it landed right where Keef had been.

It was enough of a distraction to get back to the base without Keef nipping at his heels, and when he saw Dib walking up to the door when he rounded the corner he even started whistling.


	34. What?

"Alright, I've got parts for a shoulder missile launcher, since the gun store isn't letting me in the premises anymore." Dib dropped his bags on the counter before shrugging his backpack off his back. Who knew assault weaponry was so _heavy?_ "If I work through tonight it should be ready for a test run before Christmas."

"What food did you get?" Zim started rummaging through the bags.

"Ice cream since you liked it before, pickles because I wanted some, protein bars, a few apples. What else… some stuff for me, cookie dough, popsicles, uh… beans, cheese, and tortillas, and then a pair of- _seriously_, Zim?" Zim had found the frozen pizzas and ripped the plastic off one, trying to take a bite but only letting out a whine.

"You could have said they were frozen!"

"I would have, if you'd waited five more seconds," Dib sighed. "Guess we're having that one tonight." He held out his hand, but Zim kept gnawing on it. "Okay, fine. Knock yourself out." Dib grabbed the box of popsicles, pulling one out and dropping it on the table before setting the rest in the fridge. When he turned around, Zim had grabbed the tube of cookie dough and waddled over to the nest of blankets, curling up as he tore the end with his teeth, the slowly-melting pizza beside him. "Really?"

"I just had to interact with _Keef _. I deserve it." Zim took a big bite of the dough.

"Wait, Keef? Was he- did he come to the base?" Dib crossed the living room to check out the windows as Zim shook his head. "I thought you boarded up the extra entrances I was using in middle school, but he's-"

"I was going to find food," Zim cut Dib off. "He found me. He always does…"

"He didn't hurt you, did he?" Dib tugged the curtains closed. Zim swallowed loudly.

"He touched my stomach."

Dib's hands curled into fists. "I swear, _every time _I think we got him, he just keeps popping up… at least skool's over now. If he tries to show up at the base, I'm pretty sure we'd be fine legally if we took care of him." He walked back over to Zim, sitting down next to him. "You're _sure_ he didn't-"

"Yes, I'm sure. It was uncomfortable but I've had worse." Zim chewed the dough, cheeks puffed like a chipmunk before swallowing. "Hold me."

"Huh?"

Zim grabbed his arm, yanking Dib over so he was squished against him. "I said, hold me. My temperature regulators are fuzzing and you're consistent."

"If you wanted to cuddle, you could just ask, but I need to finish putting the groceries away or they're going to melt."

"No."

"Zim…"

"I _said _no." Zim burrowed his face into Dib's shirt, and Dib rolled his eyes.

"Look, you can be clingy in two minutes, but you're getting frozen cheese all over the nest. You deal with that, I'll put the food away, then we can cuddle, got it?"

"Don't get up!" Zim's arm wrapped around Dib's, his grip like iron. Dib sucked in a deep breath before wrapping his free arm around Zim and scooping him up. "Wha- unhand me!"

"So do you want me to be next to you or no?" Dib said, standing up on wobbly legs. "Geez, how do you feel so much heavier than normal when the kid's only like three pounds?"

Zim kicked frantically at the air as Dib slowly made his way over to the kitchen. "I won't let you demean me like this! Unless you want to face my-" He froze when Dib set him down on the table and grabbed the bags.

"If you're done being a baby, can you help me?"

Zim crossed his arms. "I'm not going to after that."

Dib's fingers dug into the bag of bread. There had been a lot of yelling at the store- some obnoxious little kids had spilled the tower of wine boxes, and everyone had been complaining, and they'd tried to card him before realizing his energy drinks weren't alcoholic. "Okay, fine." He pulled open the fridge, putting away the cheese, pickles, and ice cream. He grabbed the popsicle on the table, popping it in his mouth before finishing with the food for the cupboards.

"What's this part do?" Zim had opened the bag with the missile parts, and Dib only realized that when he was plugging them together.

"No! That's the-"

A cloud of smoke erupted from it, and Dib heard a terrifying thud. "Zim?"

Zim coughed, and Dib waved at the smoke with his arms. Where was he, where was he, where _was_-

A flash of green. A few more seconds of swatting furiously at midair revealed that Zim had slammed against the wall. Dib crouched in front of him, feeling at his neck- no, that was dumb, Zim had always been wearing that stupid thick collar before and he'd never been able to really track his baseline heartbeat. Spoochbeat? Dib could feel _something _beating at least. Zim's eyes blinked open, and he stared up at Dib.

"What were you _doing _, you moron?" Dib grabbed Zim's arms, shaking him. "I _said _those were parts for the missile!"

Zim opened his mouth, but all that came out was a series of confused-sounding clicks. Dib's heart dropped.

"What?"

Zim's eyes widened, and he grabbed Dib's arms in return, pulling himself up. More throaty clicks and hisses streamed from his throat, and he pushed Dib away, starting to pace.

"Did your Pak jolt something lose when you hit the wall or something? You get thrown around all the time!" Dib stared at Zim, who was already leaning against the wall, winded. "Did anything hit your stomach? Is she okay?"

Zim held up a hand in a 'wait a second' motion, before balling it into a fist and smacking the side of his Pak.

"何?"

"Huh?"

Zim tilted his head. "Vad?"

"Nope, not that one either." Dib crossed his arms. "Okay, so it's just a translation thing, but is the baby okay?"

Zim furrowed his brow, clicking in irritation.

"Can you even understand what I'm saying?" Dib walked over to the table- luckily, the mini-explosion hadn't destroyed any of the missile parts, but it _had _completely destroyed the apples, mostly because the casing had fallen on top of them and smushed them into applesauce with peels.

Zim didn't respond at first, before Dib heard another thump.

"Come on, Zim."

"What?"

"Oh, good, that one was English!"

"That was _unsettling_." Zim rubbed his arms. "I couldn't understand you at all."

"That's it, I'm _definitely_ building this thing on my own, since you can't keep your grubby little hands to yourself," Dib said, waving the printed-off rolled-up blueprints at Zim. "Think you can keep yourself occupied for the rest of the night?"

"But… what if Keef comes back?" Zim swayed a little on his feet. "Or Gir raids the fridge and makes a mess? Or it blows up on _you? _"

"It's not going to blow up. _I'm _competent with mechanics, and it was made to be built by humans." Dib paused. "Okay, there was that thing in seventh grade, but I'm still pretty sure that one was your fault, so as long as you stay away-"

Zim bumped his forehead against Dib's shirt. Not for the first time, Dib noticed just how _small _he was compared to him now. "No. You're not leaving me."

"Zim, you're not going to risk all three of us because you're feeling lonely. I'm going to be just an elevator ride away." Dib tried to step back, but Zim had grabbed his waist without him even realizing it. "Zim, come _on. _"

"Not until you say I'm coming with you."

"If you stay across the lab, could you not bug me while I'm working on it?" Dib asked, sensing a battle that was lost before it even started.

Zim's antennae perked up as he looked up. "Yes, yes I could."

"You won't, but as long as you aren't actively a bother… it's only because you're going to do something stupid if you're left alone, you know that, right?"

Zim just grinned up at him. "I will be the least distracting Zim that I can be!"

"Somehow," Dib grumbled, "I doubt that."


	35. Building

"You don't need all twenty blankets."

"Yes, I do."

"No, you really don't." Dib picked one up. "You get as many as we can carry in one trip, got it? You're just going to have to move all of them back upstairs soon anyway, unless you-" Dib clicked his tongue. "Oh, it might be a good idea to keep them all in the lab, since I doubt you want to give birth up on the ground floor."

"Of course not!" One of Zim's eyes started twitching.

"Alright, fine, we'll carry them downstairs."

"But the food is up here."

"So leave half of them up here and half downstairs."

"But I want all of them!"

Dib buried his face in the blanket and resisted the urge to scream. "Pick your favorites and take _those _down, then."

Zim deliberated with a 'hmmmmmm…' for an agonizing thirty seconds, before panning his gaze over the nest. "Those four."

"Okay, four is good. I can do four." Dib dropped the one he was holding, and Zim snatched it up. Dib waded through the nest. "Okay, this one, this one, and…?"

"The blue one, and the one that's checkered. It's soft."

"Got it." Dib bundled them up- he could barely see anything unless he craned his neck, but it was better than crying to carry the entire nest with him. "I'll just come back for the parts."

"Mm." Zim had grabbed a pillow as well as a blanket, and the frozen pizza was balanced on top.

Well, whatever. If Zim wanted to drop little cheese-bits everywhere, that wasn't Dib's problem. He was the neat freak anyway.

"Computer, take us down to the lab." There was a whirring, but no elevator, and Dib took in a slow, deep breath. "Please?"

**"Got it."** The elevator opened up and Dib walked carefully over to it- before stepping on one of Gir's toys and falling flat on his face. Luckily, he landed on top of the blankets he'd been carrying, but he'd gotten a mouthful of fabric and his ribs ached more than they should have.

"Ugh…" Dib rubbed his head, dropping the blankets to start rummaging around. "What's in here?"

"Nothing," Zim said, blinking, before his eyes widened and he started whistling. Dib glared at him.

"That doesn't look like nothing to me, Zim." He found a few more squeaky toys, but none of them- wait. "Is that my suitcase?"

"That could be _anyone's _suitcase."

"No, it's got the Eyeball symbol I stencilled in years ago. Why did you even take this?" Dib fiddled with the latch. "Aw man, you busted the lock! Were you trying to get in?"

"Of- of course not!"

"All I had in this one was clothes anyway, at least." Dib sighed. "Great, I'm going to need the laser to even get back in. I _liked _this suitcase. What were you trying to do anyway?"

"Nothing! You were going to assemble the missile, no? We should do that."

"Zim."

Zim shifted the blankets he was holding, and had to catch the pizza from falling off. "I'll set things up!"

"Zim, you can't just steal and break my stuff for no reason."

"It wasn't for no reason."

"What _was _it, then?" Dib raised an eyebrow, and Zim headed over to the elevator.

"Don't you want to get that missile built?"

"You're avoiding the question, Zim." Dib grabbed a few blankets at random, following him. "If this is just another weird nesting thing, I need to know before I wake up to you stealing the clothes right off my back."

"I wanted it, that's all there is to it," Zim said as he climbed into the lift. He tried to lean casually against the wall, but Dib could hear his breathing as he carefully avoided the mess on the ground to stand next to him.

"You could have asked."

"Would you have let me have it?" Zim asked, and Dib thought for a moment.

"Probably not, but that's just because I've had that one so long it has sentimental value. You could have had the other bags, but you kind of destroy a lot of what you get your hands on."

Zim gasped. "How dare-"

"Zim, you _just _blew up part of the missile. It's not an insult, it's just a fact." Dib tapped his foot as the elevator took them down. "You need to work with me on this."

"Hmmph." Zim turned away as they entered the lab, trying to march away but only succeeding in waddling about ten feet before dumping his little pile of blankets on the floor and curling up in them. He picked up his frozen pizza and tried to take another bite, then growled. Dib dumped his blankets on top of Zim's head.

"There you go. Don't bug me unless it's something important, okay? The Santa showed up on the twenty-third last year and I'd rather be prepared."

Zim grumbled something that sounded suspiciously like 'worm' and Dib pulled open the cabinet and tugged on a pair of goggles before heading back to the elevator to grab the parts. He had work to do.

Apparently, according to Zim, 'something important' involved 'I want juice but it's hard to get up', 'there's a spider in the blankets', and 'the robot cat your father-creature sent back is licking me and I want it gone but I don't want to just melt it, why don't I want to melt it?'. Three hours later, Dib had only finished about a fourth of the blueprint after listening to Zim blubbering over the metal kitten. When Dib had last seen the robot, it had settled on top of Zim's boot and he was watching it flick its tail.

"Dib?"

Dib nearly snapped the handle of the blowtorch in half as Zim's voice echoed through the lab. _Again _. He'd move to another room if he wasn't afraid Zim was going to fall on his face and suffocate, at this point. " _What? _"

"She's moving too much!"

Dib tugged the goggles up, the elastic band snapping against the sides of his skull as he turned in the hover-chair. Zim was holding his stomach with wide eyes. Dib sucked in a deep breath, walking over to crouch in front of him. Zim tugged up his shirt, to show-

Oh, _wow _. Dib could see little bumps under the skin, shifting around. "Geez, she is." Dib set his hand on top of one of the bumps, and it moved below his palm. "You getting all worked up must have worked her up too."

Zim stared down at himself, and at Dib's hand. "Can you calm her down?"

"Maybe if you stop yelling at me to come over every ten minutes she'll fall asleep."

"But Gir falls asleep even _when _I'm yelling at _him. _"

"Gir's a robot, she's- I dunno what the technical term would be besides hybrid, but organic. Most people don't calm down if you scream around them." Dib blinked. "Man, we're really going to have to adjust to that, I don't think you _have _a low volume setting."

Zim made a disgruntled mumble, leaning back against the blankets. "It will be fine."

"Yeah, I hope so…" Dib shook his head to clear it. "Anyways. You said you were going to be quiet, remember?"

"I promised no such thing!"

"You-" Dib pinched the bridge of his nose. "Can you promise it now? I really don't want to have to face Santa relying on _your _weapons with you barely able to walk."

Zim snarled. "I can handle anything! Better than you can, even, I'm an elite soldier-"

"Twenty minutes ago you couldn't handle a spider!" Dib stood up. "I need some air. Computer, can you keep him away from the equipment?"

**"He's my master, not you."**

Dib took a very slow breath in as Zim glared at him with narrowed eyes.

"Please?"

**"Fine, but only because I don't want to waste time repairing anything. You have an hour."**

"Good enough." Dib swept over to the lift. "Ground floor." It started to rise, and Dib crossed his arms and blew a lock of hair from his eyes with a huff.

**"Geez, you're touchy today."**

"He's being insufferable!"

The computer didn't reply to that, slamming to a stop and Dib headed directly out the door, slamming it shut hard enough behind him that the gnomes sprung to life. The one wayward one in the back that never properly recognized his signature had been programmed in took a shot until Dib made it past the property line.

Zim was just…. he just… ugh! The busy store from earlier, the explosion and almost losing the ability to talk, ruining Dib's stuff, and then being so annoying about every little thing Dib couldn't even do something that would help both of them?

The same fire he'd felt back in middle skool whenever he'd heard Zim's voice was turning around in his stomach and he stuffed his hands further into his coat.

Dib stomped through the snow, nearly slipping on ice more than once until he threw the door to his house open.

"What, did he kick you out?" Gaz was doodling in her sketchbook at the table.

"No, he was just- just- argh!" Dib pulled the chair out with a squeaky wail as it was dragged on the the tile, before burying his head in his arms. "He's acting like an annoying little kid!"

"You realize you two are _having _an annoying little kid." Gaz's pencil scratched as she blew a bubble of grape-smelling gum.

"I know, but no kid could be as annoying as he's been today. He almost blew us both up." Dib's voice was muffled through his sleeves.

The bubble popped. "So? What's new about that?"

"Because it's not just him anymore! He's carrying a kid, who could get really hurt if he pulls the same dumb shit he's been doing for years, and he's been _really _clingy." Dib groaned. "We really weren't ready for this."

"No, you really weren't," Gaz said, flipping a page and starting to scribble again. Dib turned his head to look at her.

"Gee, thanks."

"You knew what you were getting into," Gaz tilted her head a little. "I mean, it's _Zim _. He's a moron. You knew that."

"Yeah... ugh, I'm an idiot." Dib dug the heel of his palms into his eyes underneath his glasses, the lab goggles still strapped to his head.

"You've got two choices. Either mope around like a baby, or figure this out."

"How am I supposed to figure out what to do if I have no idea what the right thing is? Everything used to be so much easier- he was evil, I was the good guy. Now I've got to _think _about it."

Gaz made a broad stroke with her pencil. "Not my problem."

"But-"

Gaz raised her head, opening her eyes just wide enough that Dib could feel her gaze piercing his soul. "Look. Do you want to treat the kid like Dad treated us, like roommates and science experiments?"

"I-"

"This is your chance to not fuck things up. I'd take it." She settled back in her seat, and Dib swallowed.

"Yeah. I'll- I'll just go before Zim sets himself on fire or something."

"Good call."

The walk back to the base was freezing- Dib hadn't noticed when he'd stormed over, but now the slush splashed up to sink into his boots where his pants were tucked into them. Luckily, the gnome in the back had stopped working again as Dib elbowed the door open.

"How was my time?"

**"Five minutes to spare."**

"And Zim?"

**"Pouting."**

Dib stuffed his hands into his pockets. "Alright, take me back down to the lab."

The elevator went too slow- or maybe his brain was just running too fast.

"Dib-beast!" Zim yelled as soon as it opened into the lab, wearing the blankets like a cape with bits of tomato sauce around his lips. The pizza must have finally thawed enough to eat. "Why did you just_ leave? _"

"I told you, I needed some air." Dib strode across the lab and sat down next to him. "Are you okay?"

"I've- eh? Yes, I'm fine, but she's still-" Zim yawned. "Still moving around too much."

"Only a few more weeks. You'll live." Dib glanced over at the partially-finished missile before sighing. "I'm not getting anything else done tonight. We've got two weeks until Christmas, I'll deal with it later."

"Don't you want to protect us?"

"I can do it tomorrow. Besides, we can make a plan for what to do if Keef shows up again."

"That _does _sound like fun," Zim admitted. "Fine, you can continue the building of the launcher tomorrow." He tried to push himself up in the pile, but his legs wobbled and he threw his arms out to try and balance.

Dib scooped him up, and this time, Zim didn't protest, setting one arm on top of his stomach and pointing with the other to the ceiling. "To the planning room!"

"To the planning room," Dib agreed. He could still see the movement from where the shirt didn't cover, and swallowed.

They could do this. One step at a time.


	36. Zombie Baby

"Okay, so we've got electrocution, spike traps, and the wolverines you have in cryostasis." Dib tapped the marker against the whiteboard. "What else?"

"I could short out his eyeballs!" Zim nearly dumped his cup of hot cocoa on himself as he thrust the mug up into the air excitedly, and Dib scribbled it out with the squeaky marker.

"Oh, that's a _good _one."

"He won't be getting anywhere near any of us! Isn't that right?" Zim looked down at his stomach, giving a big grin at it at the shift. "That's right, _you _know what I'm talking about."

"You really talk to her a lot, don't you?" Dib let the magnet on the marker click it to the board as he knelt down in the few blankets taken from the nest.

Zim grabbed his arm, tugging him hard, and Dib fell on top of Zim's stomach. "Oof!"

"Why wouldn't I? She has to get used to my voice, doesn't she? Not that she won't-" Zim yawned twice in a span of a few seconds, eyes squeezed tightly shut before blinking them open again. "Won't know it's me."

"I think you're supposed to talk to kids. Dad's notes said he did sometimes, since we didn't have a heartbeat around us in the tubes." Dib pushed himself up before leaning forwards anyway. "Apparently he did it once a day for exactly a minute and a half at a time. I have no idea if that helped, to be honest-" Zim held up a finger to shut Dib up, before pointing it down at his belly.

"Say something to her," Zim urged. "She has to adjust to your horrible voice at some point."

"Hey, it's not horrible!" Dib protested, before clearing his throat. "Uh, hi. I'm- Dib. You don't know that yet. I'm sure Zim's been telling you his name every five minutes when he's talking to you, so I should probably repeat this a few times so you know mine. Do I want you to call me Dib? Would that be weird?" He looked up. "What do _you _want to be called, anyway? Not mom, I wouldn't think."

"Zim, obviously."

"Don't you want- I don't know, aren't there any old irken words for parent? Breeder or something? Not that _specifically_, though, that'd be kind of creepy to have your kid call you that."

Zim thought for a moment. "Irkens have come from tubes for thousands of generations. Zim is fine."

"Okay. That's kind of weird, but I guess no weirder than having two dads anyway. Makes it easier for me, I can just go with..." He trailed off, staring down at the curve pushing out the fabric of his old shirt. "...dad."

"That _is _the term for a male parental figure, no? What's the problem?"

Dib shook his head like he was clearing an etch-a-sketch. "No. I mean, yeah, yeah it is! It's just- weird to think about. I just graduated high school a few months ago, really, and now…" He set a hand on Zim's stomach. "Hi there. I'm going to be your dad."

There was movement under his palm, and Zim groaned.

"Great, you woke her up!"

"I wasn't trying to- she was moving around a lot earlier, I thought she'd be tired. Figures she'll never stop going, though, with _you _as one of her parents."

"_You _never quit either. With you, she'll be climbing out of my guts in no time to go exploring." Zim drummed his fingers on his stomach. "Do something to make her go back to sleep."

Dib cleared his throat. "Hello there, uh… man, we still need to look for more names. And no, we're not going with any variation on Zim jr!" Dib cut Zim off as soon as he opened his mouth. "I guess we have some time, it's not like you'll be able to really tell as soon as you're born, you'll be a meat lump. We can just call you baby or something. I'm Dib, like I just said, your… dad. I'm your dad. And your- Zim? He's _my _Zim, but he'll be yours too. He wants you to settle down." He pulled up the shirt to directly rub his palm on Zim's skin. "I know annoying him is a lot of fun, but you can… tone it down a little? It's starting to annoy me too, and you don't want to do that, right?"

"She's going to be perfect, she just doesn't know it yet," Zim said. "As soon as she comes out, _you'll_ know that."

"I don't know about perfect. Nothing's perfect. _We _sure as hell aren't." Dib's fingers curled on top of the green skin. "But… yeah. She's going to be great, if she manages to make it to her first birthday."

"We aren't going to _kill _her!" Zim smacked at Dib's chest. "Even if we _do_, I'm sure we can resuscitate her!"

"Right, your alien healing tech is freaky, I know. And _I _can raise the dead- I wonder what a zombie baby would be like? Would she just be stuck in an infantile state of mind forever or could we figure out how to make her grow normally and just clone brains for her to eat? Although I met that one vegan zombie who ate cauliflower, _boy _was she strange-"

Zim flapped his hand at Dib. "You're death-thinking again. Stop that. Right now."

Dib rubbed the back of his neck. "I mean, a zombie baby _would _be cool."

"Not if it's _our _zombie baby!" Zim shot back.

"I'm just saying, having a backup plan isn't a bad idea," Dib argued. "I want her to survive as much as you do."

"It doesn't feel like it," Zim grumbled, crossing his arms, and Dib blinked.

"What?"

"You're so soaked in bad-mood juice, all the time!" Zim waved his hands forward. "Oh, she's going to come out with a mutant arm, oh, what if she dies, oh, the Santa is going to destroy all of us!"

"He managed to flatten _four buildings _last year, that's a legitimate- come on, I'm being realistic! Zim, do you even _understand _how different we are?"

"Of course I do! What's your point?"

Dib grabbed Zim's arms, fingers tightening around the patch of skin between the bottom of the t-shirt sleeve and the top of his gloves. "The x-ray showed that her organs are all mixed up. You're an _ alien_. On earth, if two different species crossbreed, if the fetus even makes it out of utero it's usually sterile or messed up in some way. And that's close relations, like tigers and lions, irkens developed in a completely different ecosystem from humans!" His nails dug in, and Zim snarled, pushing him off.

"Nonsense, my superior body will build her up so it's not that!"

"Even getting this attached to it is probably a bad idea, I shouldn't have told Dad and Gaz, who knows-"

"She'll be fine! If she isn't we'll fix her." Zim pulled his knees up and hunched forward. "We'll fix her. It'll be fine! Fine, fine, yes."

"...You're worried too, aren't you?" Dib's volume dipped, and he shifted to sit next to Zim.

"Zim worries over nothing!"

"Maybe I'm being too gloomy, but I'm right. Your body can handle it, but… can you get your Pak to check if she's still growing at a healthy rate?"

"If you insist," Zim said, but Dib noticed the way his fingers tightened on his shirt, and how the quiet dragged for a count of three before he spoke again. "Pak, analyze smeet for mutations."

The soft whirring was becoming familiar. _"Multiple mutations detected." _

"Are any of them fatal?" Dib asked, which Zim repeated to the Pak.

_"None are fatal." _

"She won't be paralyzed or anything, will she?" Dib worried at the thread of a blanket. Again, Zim echoed him for the Pak to spit out a new answer.

_"Uncertain. Fzzt data is required." _

"Right, she's the only human and irken hybrid so there's not going to be any information on her baseline." Dib groaned. "That's not _nothing_, at least- she'll live, and we can deal with the rest when we get there."

"How far along is she?" Zim asked. "Percentage-wise."

_"Smeet is 77.645% complete." _

"I thought you said she was at sixty-nine percent the other day!" Dib's eyes widened.

"When I last checked!" Zim defended. "Which was, uh…."

"A while ago. Right." Dib slumped back on the blankets, staring up at the ceiling. "I'm going to be a dad in less than a month, at this rate."

"Isn't that what we were planning all along?" Zim shuffled down the blanket pile before turning over and plopping his head on Dib's stomach, curling up a bit. Dib could feel his left antennae as it brushed his shirt, watching as Zim's eyes reflected under the lights.

"Yeah, but saying 'dad' makes it feel more real. I... wasn't sure we'd get this far, honestly." Zim moved his arm, jabbing Dib with a pointy elbow. "Hey!"

"You're a legal adult by the standards of Earth, yes?"

"Yeah, I am, but that doesn't mean jack."

"And didn't we have a classmate who was having children?"

"Yeah, she brought her kid to graduation because she slept with half the football team and our sex ed class was terrible. That was her problem, not ours. So?"

"So if she, an average specimen of earth human, could do this, then you, one of the _least _stupid of the bunch, can, no?"

The corner of Dib's mouth quirked up. "You're right. Maybe you're smarter than you look, space boy."

"Of course I am!" Zim beamed, and it was at that moment the smeet decided to turn over, distracting Zim while Dib fumbled for his phone camera.

He missed the picture, but the way that Zim grinned while bragging about how 'powerful she was despite any errant mutation' was worth it.

They ended up falling asleep curled into each other, Dib's long body brushing the cool floor, but Zim's body heat and the soft blankets were more than enough.


	37. I Did Good?

Dib woke up to Zim straddling him with goggles on, a look of concentration on his face, and his tongue out. He held a strip of cloth in his gloves.

"Zim, what are you doing?"

"Waiting for you to wake up." Zim immediately pressed the cloth to Dib's eyes, reaching around his head to tie it. Dib could see light, but nothing else.

"What the hell-"

"I want to show you something, and I'm not going to let you stumble across it on your own and ruin the surprise." His weight lifted from his mattress, and Dib slid off it behind him, narrowly avoiding banging his knee the bedside table. Zim cleared his throat, so Dib stumbled towards him.

"Can't you just… lead me there without it? I can't exactly see into the room until I get there."

"If you take the blindfold off, I'm going to kick you," Zim warned, moving around Dib to push at his butt and make him move. Dib started for the door, just grazing the frame as he crossed through.

"Okay, okay, sheesh. Are you sure you should be walking this much? How far is this room?"

"Zim is fine, now cease your blabbering." Zim yanked at Dib's shirt from the left to make him turn. "I have the hover disk for moving when you're asleep, for your information."

"Why have you been making me carry you around, then?" Dib couldn't help a smirk, and Zim's grip tightened on his shirt.

"It was just- none of your business!"

"Aw, you like me holding you, don't you?" Dib reached back for where he figured Zim's head was, flailing for a few seconds before managing to pat his head, getting a half-hearted swipe at his arm in return.

"Make quiet, Dib, to prepare for the most surprising surprise!"

Dib stuck his hands out in front of him. "How far is it?"

"Eh, with your legs… maybe three minutes?" Zim swayed against Dib, leaning his full weight on him.

"Zim, if I just take off the blindfold I can carry you wherever-"

"No!" Zim snapped out, sucking in a breath before marching forward. "Just follow my footsteps!"

Dib groaned, hands moving in circles as he followed the sound of Zim's voice. Luckily, he couldn't move very fast anymore. Attempting to take the blindfold off got a hiss from Zim, but more than once, Zim had to stop to get his wind back anyway. Finally, they made it- in probably double the time Zim had predicted. There was the buzz and swish of a door opening, and Dib could hear the whip of air as Zim gestured with a snap. "You may unblind yourself now and behold!"

Dib untied the blindfold, blinking before Zim handed him his glasses. The room was violet, sparkling dots embedded in the walls and on the ceiling to simulate stars. In the corner floated the crib, Gir settled in it and sucking on one of his feet. There was an empty shelf behind it, and the toys they'd bought had been settled in a neat pile on the opposite end. A closet to the pile's left had baby clothes hung inside of it. Soft carpeting was on the ground, a dark blue with swirly green patterns that Dib liked immediately.

"We needed a room, no?" Zim looked up at Dib, who didn't notice until he glanced down at him.

"I was so focused on the little stuff I forgot she'd need somewhere to sleep," Dib admitted, the breath knocked out of him that Zim had even thought of this. "Did you… lookup nurseries online or something?"

"I did!" Zim tried to puff out his chest, but the effect was dampened by the fact that he was mostly just thrusting his stomach forward.

Dib walked into the room, stuffing the blindfold into his pajama pockets as he ran his fingers along the wall. There were tiny dips were the glowing dots were. "Is this a real star map?"

"It's what the stars look like from Irk."

"Not super useful to a baby raised on Earth," Dib said, but his chest twisted at that. "Do you… ever miss Irk?"

"Pssh, no. The only people who stay on-planet are smeets during their training, once you're assigned you're sent somewhere else." Zim waved a hand, his other arm settled on top of his stomach. Dib noted with some amusement that the shirt he was in today had Casper the friendly ghost on it.

"Really? I'll have to mark that one down," Dib said, curling his fingers around the top of the crib. "Hey, you finished it!"

Zim snapped the band of his goggles, "Almost finished it. I dropped the wrench and Gir won't pick it up for me."

"You've gotta lean down, down down, the burning ring of fire~ " Gir sang. Dib raised an eyebrow.

"Didn't I tell you I'd help?"

"It was going to be a surprise! You are adequately surprised, are you not?" His antennae twitched, and Dib looked around the room again.

"Yeah, I am. I should have thought of this before, but I was too focused on you." Dib turned to poke at where Zim's nose would be, and Zim's gloves scrabbled at it.

"As you should be!" Zim huffed, leaning against the crib. "I can't believe just how exhausting it is, fueling- wah!" His weight sent the crib floating backward with Gir laughing inside of it, and if his Pak legs hadn't sprung out, he would have slammed down on his side. His eyes widened before the legs retracted suddenly, and Dib lunged forward to grab him. "Curse you, gravity!"

"I think I need to be the one to finish the crib," Dib said, not wanting to admit how much his heart was pounding as he scooped Zim up. "You've only got a few weeks, can you keep accidents to a minimum? We can finish decorating together."

"I don't have accidents, I get sabotaged by everything around me," Zim grumbled, pouting as he crossed his arms.

"Riiiiiight. Let's just bring you over here," Dib said, setting Zim down on a rocking chair. Well, it mostly looked like a rocking chair, but there was a big bag on the side. He bent over at the waist to pull the bag open, which revealed- rocks? Mostly pebbles and gravel he could find in a yard, but there were some pretty crystals mixed in. "Uh, what are these?"

"Don't these come with rocks? When I was doing my research, I found some that are supposed to have healing properties, and the others are for snacks."

"Zim, humans don't eat rocks."

"What about salt?" Zim raised an eyebrow, and Dib held up his finger before thinking for a moment.

"Okay, I guess salt counts," Dib admitted. "And there's some legitimacy to crystal healing, but you usually need to be a proper witch to get much use out of it or they're just a bunch of rocks." He rummaged around in the back, rubbing his thumb over a hunk of Rose Quartz. "Where did you get these, anyway?"

"Gir likes collecting them. He says it's for a 'rock show' he does for the neighbors."

"I do-di-do!" Gir confirmed.

"Huh." Dib had to admit, it was kind of pretty. "We can keep the gems and minerals, they'd make nice decorations and I'll find a good spell to charge them up. We can use all the luck and good health we can get."

Zim perked up, especially when Dib started picking out a few to set on the shelf across the room. He watched with a big grin as Dib pulled the bag off to stick his hand into.

"They were good, no?"

"Yeah, it's a good idea," Dib muttered distractedly as he tried to find all of the crystals, before hearing a series of clicks from behind him. When he turned around, Zim had his eyes closed, hugging himself and rocking slightly with satisfied chirrs. "You're happy about making the room nice, aren't you?" Zim nodded after a few seconds, like it had taken a moment to process Dib's words.

"Oh man, I need to do another log- be right back." He jogged out of the room, trying to remember how many turns he'd made, but it took a good four minutes before he managed to find his room again in the labyrinthine lower labs, and another three and a half to make it back to the nursery.

How had he forgotten about making the room? He'd just… okay, they were worried about keeping Zim healthy, but still, it was a big thing! At least Zim's sense of decor wasn't that bad, and he could hang up some posters, maybe add a changing table if they needed one. Which they probably would. Eugh.

Zim was hugging himself even more tightly, antennae flat against his head with a blanket draped over him, and Dib winced. "I'm right here, Zim."

Zim turned, eyes wide. " There you are!"

"I was only gone for a couple of minutes, I needed to grab my phone." Dib held it up as proof. Zim growled.

"Don't leave without telling me." His tone was low and threatening. Dib hadn't heard him speak like that in ages. Gir was still singing softly to himself from the crib.

"I did tell you- did you not hear me?"

"If you'd told me, I would have heard it, wouldn't I?"

"You were speaking in irken, maybe you couldn't translate the words?" Dib sighed. "I'll make it a short one, okay?"

Zim leveled his stare at Dib for a blistering half-minute before he dug into his Pak to produce his wig, the goggles serving to cover his eyes for now. Dib started the recording.

"This is log eight. It's the... eighteenth I think? I just woke up, the days kind of blur together sometimes." He rubbed his eyes with his free hand. "Sorry for slipping on these, we've been pretty busy. Zim's starting to become more driven by instinct, since he just slipped into irken and he actually thought of finishing the nursery before I did." Dib paused. "And starting it, for that matter. I take it the computer helped?" He looked up.

"If you mean Zim yelled what design he wanted and then made me make the room, yes, I 'helped'," The computer said. "He just got Gir to dump the stuff in here."

"Yeah, that's what I thought," Dib said, snickering when Zim shook a fist up at the ceiling.

"I came up with the ideas!"

"That's not nothing, Zim. You did good."

"I did good?" Zim turned to Dib before nuzzling against his shoulder.

"As you can see, he's also been pretty clingy as of late. He freaked out when I went to go grab this camera to record this."

"I did not 'freak out'!" Zim protested.

"You kind of did."

"I'm docking your access to the Earth internet for backtalk, you know!"

"That's just going to inconvenience you."

"Silence!"

"Anyway, Zim looks about ready to pop," Dib said, reaching for Zim's shirt, but Zim pulled it up before he could. "How far along are you now?"

"Just under eighty-four percent. It's starting to go faster," Zim said. Dib winced, shifting the camera to try and get Zim's stomach without it just filling the whole screen with it.

"Any projected dates?"

"The fourth or fifth would fit the timeline," Zim said, giving it a pat.

"A new year's baby would be fun, but we'll see how things work out. I'm going to finish up work on the crib." He set his hand next to Zim's, and the camera caught his smile when Zim slid his fingers over Dib's. "Dib out."


	38. Santa's Coming To Town

Zim huddled in the blankets, watching the snow drift down through the window. "I should be out there."

"Not on your life." Dib wrapped his scarf around his neck. "Look, if you go out there and he lands one good hit on you? You might lose her."

"You underestimate me!"

"And you overestimate yourself." Dib knelt down. "Look, Gir's here to get you whatever you need. If I'm lucky, I can get in a few good shots in and be back in time for us to make fun of whatever cheesy movie they're running for Christmas eve."

"I am! I'mma get myself a maid outfit…" Gir mused to himself, tapping his chin in an imitation of thoughtfulness.

"See? I'll just be a few hours."

"Can't the Earth military take care of it?"

Dib groaned. "I tried to talk to them about it, but they insist that they 'can't kill Santa' and that he's 'definitely gone now'." He made air quotes. "Besides, after last year, I think they finally set up the bio scanners so I'm not allowed on the premises anymore or they'll melt my skin."

"Hmmph, and you're going to let that stop you?"

"It's not worth it if they aren't going to help me. I'd ask Dad, but his Santa-hunting equipment got buried in that landslide a couple of years ago, remember?" Dib adjusted his gym bag. "You know I can handle myself, I'll be fine. I don't want him getting too close to my house or the base."

"But- but- you're too squishy and flammable and breakable!" Zim clutched at Dib's sleeves. Didn't he realize how much trouble he could be in? He was brave, yes, but also ridiculously reckless. He'd be leaving Zim all alone, which wouldn't do at all!

"My coat's reinforced with flexible armor." Dib rapped his knuckles against it. "I had it installed from having to deal with you, actually. It can handle Santa." He pried Zim's claws off of him, one at a time. "Just… turn on some cartoons or something. You can distract yourself until I get back."

"But you won't be here, how can I-" Zim cleared his throat. He was an elite invader, this was starting to just get sad. He could manage without Dib for a few hours- he'd done it for ages before! "I will be waiting. And if you are in need of assistance, I'll be there."

"If I need help, I'll call Gaz. Your job is to sit here and not die, got it?" Dib said, straightening up.

Zim crossed his arms. Well, he didn't have to be condescending about it. "Fine, fine. Go before I change my mind and keep you here."

"I don't think you can really make me do anything at this point," Dib said. "With any luck, I'll be back by eight."

"If you aren't, I'll begin preparations for your burial."

"Sounds fair," Dib said, hesitating for a moment and turning back. "Do we have a flamethrower?"

Zim pointed over to the side table, before grabbing Gir and stuffing his hands over the ears of his dog suit, keeping him staring at the TV. "There's a button on the back of the shelf and a secret compartment."

"Really?" Dib shrugged the bag with the missile off onto the couch to rummage around inside of it, and Zim heard a click. "Oh, neat! Have you always had this here?"

"Usually, I use the one down in the lab, but you can never have too many flamethrowers."

"Can't argue with that." Dib tested its weight in his hand. Gir stared at him, tail wagging.

"Wooooah! Cool! Did that come from the ninja dimension?"

"Nope," Dib said, pulling the gym bag back up onto his shoulder. "Relax, I'll be fine. In and out, I know his fighting patterns now!" He turned to Gir. "Gir, don't let him leave the nest until I get back, got it?"

Gir saluted, eyes flashing red for a moment. "Yes, sir!"

"Traitor," Zim grumbled, as Dib headed out the door.

"Don't worry about me, I'll be back before you know it!"

Zim would be pacing if it didn't make his back ache and his legs wobble. As it was, he was bouncing his leg and squeezing one of Gir's toys, after thoroughly scrubbing it of any sticky substances on a container of wet wipes he'd buried in the nest.

Gir was holding a toy moose and a toy pig, smashing their faces together as he rambled on a story that Zim couldn't follow. And he'd tried! Anything would be better than the gnawing deep in his guts. "Don't worry about me", hah! How could he not, with how Dib was literally throwing himself at trouble? True, if he didn't, Santa would simply show up and try to destroy the whole city with them included, but they had weapons built into the base in case of incidents like this.

He was Dib, nothing could kill him.

...He was Dib, a human, everything could kill him!

The fact that he could hear distant roars didn't help. The Santa wasn't quite as large as it had been the first year he'd created it, but it had grown exponentially from the tiny doll they'd reduced it to and was now about a size and a half as tall as the one-story skool. It had been that big last year, anyway, and with another year-

No, he couldn't let his incessant brainworms gnaw at him anymore. Dib was infuriatingly difficult to really, truly injure, and he did know Santa well enough by now. He'd be fine.

One of the roars shook the reinforced 'glass' of the windows, and Zim scrambled up, pressing his face to one of them.

Santa was badly bleeding melted mint into its beard and parts of its legs were melted. Dib was swaying on his feet, hair fractured into more pieces than usual with cuts and bruises littering his face. Meanwhile, the missile launcher was dented and coated in white and red at his feet next to the bag. He was trying to use the flamethrower with one hand, the other hanging by his side.

It had hurt him.

It had hurt him.

Fury flooded his veins, sticky-carbonated and as frantic as a broken nozzle on a soda dispensing machine, and Zim threw the door open. "Hey!"

Santa turned to him, and Dib whipped around.

"Holy-! We made it all the way back- Zim, what are you doing? "

The creature swatted at Dib, knocking him against a nearby fence, and Zim shuffled over to the missile launcher as fast as he could. He jammed the one remaining rocket into it from Dib's bag, and dropped to one knee under the weight as he set it on his shoulder.

"Leave my Dib alone!" Zim yelled, taking only a second to aim before firing directly at the largest wound on its side. The kickback knocked him back on his butt, and the smeet scrabbled about inside of him, making him nearly vomit.

The rocket tore through synthetic flesh, exploding the Santa in a shower of minty red goop that drenched both of them. Zim panted, rubbing his sore butt. "Oooh wow…" Scanning the immediate area, it was a holiday war zone of candy and goop dripping from every fence and wall, but nothing organic was moving. Nothing except for Dib, that was.

"ZIM!" Dib nearly slipped in the slick three times before giving up and just crawling over, making squishy wet noises as he did. He was soaked in so much Santa-gore that his skin was more red than anything else, and Zim tried to slide some off of his arms with his gloves as he scooted closer to Dib- it was all over, soaking him to the bones. Dib slapped his soaked palms to Zim's cheeks. "What the hell were you thinking?"

"I was thinking you needed me," Zim scoffed. The smeet kicked again, and he gave his stomach a pat, smearing the minty gore around. "I was saving your father, don't get angry with me." He met Dib's eyes. "Are you broken in any way?"

"You could have died!"

"But I didn't! You needed me, no?"

"I had it handled!"

"No, you didn't," Zim argued, raising a hand to stroke down Dib's cheek. Some of the goo was soaking into the cuts on his face, and he winced. "Go clean up, you can shower me with praise later."

"Are you sure that you're okay?" Dib's hands ran down Zim's sides, then over his arms. "Nothing's broken?"

"I'm fine. Are you?"

"I'm just sore- you've done worse." Dib stood up, grabbing Zim by the armpits to lift him up.

"I have, haven't I…" Zim mused as Dib started slowly walking towards the front steps. "That must have killed it."

"Nah, remember that one year we set him and fire and he boiled from the inside out but he still managed to show up again?" Dib grumbled. "He'll be back."

"We'll be able to take him!" Zim grinned at their victory- normally, he loathed being covered in anything sticky, but the blood of his enemies was an exception now that he was certain Santa was defeated for the time being. Still, it was starting to stick to his antennae. "Shall we share the shower?"

"Is it going to fit both of us at once?"

"I need to make sure you aren't lying to me that you're not injured." Zim turned his head, growling at a particularly large pile of Santa-goo. "It hurt you. Nothing gets to do that except for me ."

"Zim, really-" Dib winced. "Ugh, that might not be a bad idea." They both made their way back to the house, with Dib moving slower than usual, something Zim took immediate note of.

Dib took a deep breath, wringing out his hair on the front mat before entering. "Computer, take us down to the room that has that gel-bath thing."

**"Geez, did you two run into a warzone?"**

"Minty!" Gir ran over, starting to lick at Dib's legs, and Dib nudged him with the toe of his boot.

"No, Gir. Go eat the stuff outside, we're going to go clean up."

"Okay!" Gir ran outside as the elevator opened up, and they climbed into it. Dib still hadn't picked him up, although he'd been so fond of it in the past few weeks.

Not that Zim was going to complain about being carried by Dib and having him do whatever he wanted, necessarily, but he had to preserve some of his dignity. Besides, now this was just concerning. Was he actually broken or just tired?

They managed to make it to the cleansing room without getting too much Santa-blood everywhere. He could just get Minimoose to clean it up later. Dib began to strip, removing his coat and then his shirt. Zim watched as red-soaked fabric peeled away from his skin to reveal a scarred body, wet from sweat and practically glistening under the lights.

"I'll get in first, then you can just sit in my lap, that'll probably allow us both to fit at the same time," Dib said as he pried his pants off his legs, making Zim blink. Oh, yes, they were going to clean up, weren't they? He tugged his own shirt over his head and kicked off his boots as Dib climbed in and hit the switch.

"Aren't you going to take your tights off?" Dib asked as Zim set his gloves next to the sink and carefully lifted his leg over the edge of the tub.

"Irken fabric can be cleaned along with the skin," Zim said, raising an eyebrow. "You bathe entirely naked?"

"Uh, yeah. I can leave on my underwear if you want, but-"

"It's fine." Zim rested his cheek against Dib's chest as the bathtub filled with floral-smelling pink gel, lifting up the red carnage left on his clothes and body as it did.

Dib shifted about in the tub, his muscles relaxing underneath Zim. Ah, so he was just tired. Good to know. Zim reached up to push a handful of the gel up towards his hair, which made Dib rub some against his scalp in return. The deeply human scent mixed with the gel, and Zim's antennae twitched, soaking it in. Dib on one side, twice his size now but holding him gently, and the cleaning gel at just the right temperature on the other...

He didn't realize how tired he was until the adrenaline had worn off, and he drifted away from consciousness as Dib set a hand on his back, keeping him close.

* * *

A/N: This one has two fanarts for it so if you want to check those out, hop over to the ao3 upload. My ao3 is linked in my profile, chapter numbers are the same.


	39. Dogwalking and Nicknames

Dib groaned at the lack of movement from the pile of blankets. The mass of fabric had nearly doubled, somehow. Where had he even been _getting _them? "Zim, come on, it's been three days."

"No."

"It's New Year's. You can't stay in there until you give birth, your legs are going to hate you."

"I can sit still for much longer than this. My will is iron. _Iron_, Dib." Zim was rubbing a pair of tiny socks between his fingertips. Dib wasn't entirely sure if they had been in the nest before or if he'd ordered Gir to get them. They were even smaller than his fingers, and imagining feet tiny enough to fit in them was making his stomach flip.

"How far along is she?"

"Ninety-six percent."

"She's almost here- won't it be good to stretch a little beforehand?"

"I don't want to move."

New tactic time. "The blankets are gross- don't you want to wash them? You've got wrappers all over."

"I like the sugary smell."

Dib scanned the room, before spotting Gir making raspberries with the dog suit's tongue in the corner as he watched a pair of flies making loops in the air. "Hey, Gir, do you want to take a walk?"

"_Would _I?" Gir leaped up, burrowing into the nest. His butt and legs wiggled for a moment before he sunk in entirely.

"Zim, being moody is just going to make you feel worse. You need some fresh air. I know I was a complete asshole whenever I was cooped up for too long, and _you _haven't moved in days."

"Found iiiiiiiit!" Gir sang, popping up with a leash. "Walkie talkie time!"

"No, Gir," Zim mumbled, rubbing at his eyes, and Dib crouched down.

"Are you feeling sick?"

"No. Tired. I don't know if you've noticed, but I'm carrying a smeet that's currently… _how _heavy again?"

_"Four pounds, point zero three ounces," _his Pak rattled off.

"_Twice _as big as normal." He leaned back, staring at the ceiling. "She's going to fester in my guts until I pop."

"Come on, leave the doomsday soothsaying to me." Dib set two fingers under Zim's chin. "I won't make you walk, but just sitting on the front porch will probably help."

Zim stretched, scratching his stomach before his elbow jammed into the greasy underside of a pizza box. He grimaced, flicking it away. "I suppose there's no harm in _trying_. If I feel anything amiss, though, you are to bring me _directly _back to the base, understood?"

Dib hid a smile behind his hand. "Yeah, got it."

Zim used his Pak legs to push him up, puffing out his cheeks with the exertion. He panted for a few seconds before letting out a breath.

Gir was up in his tiptoes, holding up the leash to Zim like he was a small victorian child asking for food, and Zim looked up at Dib. "You dare make me-"

Dib grabbed the leash. "I'll walk you today, okay?"

"Awww, I like how master does, though. He's real good at whistling!"

"I can whistle."

"Not like he can..." Gir started sniffling, and Dib knelt down.

"If you let me walk you I'll get you something at the corner store on the way back, okay?"

"But I want him!" Gir whined, before spotting something on the currently-off tv screen. "Oooh, wuzzat?" He ran over, slamming directly into the screen and flopping on his back. Dib yanked at the leash, and Gir scrambled up. "We're going on a walk?"

Dib sucked in a breath. "Yeah. We're going on a walk."

Zim snickered as he waddled over to the front closet, pulling out a Mysterious Mysteries hoodie Dib had left in it and carefully setting the socks in the pocket. "Be careful. He likes running up trees." He brightened, realizing there was a wrapped lollipop on the inside, and tore the wrapper off, sticking it in his mouth.

"Ugh, I'm going to regret using this as an excuse to get you outside, aren't I?"

"You tell me, dog boy," Zim said around the candy, pulling his wig on and digging a pair of earmuffs out of the closet for good measure.

"Gir's not even a real dog-"

"I'm not?"

Dib wound the leash around his wrist with a sigh. "Let's just go."

Zim turned the doorknob, throwing it open to a rush of cold air. Most of the Santa mess had been cleaned up, but the neighborhood still stank of mint, a scent that Dib was starting to hate. He pulled a stick of gum from his pocket, popping it into his mouth as Zim took one slow step, then another.

"Really, I did just want to get you outside. I can probably walk Gir on my own."

"I _do _need to stretch my legs." Zim yawned around the candy, (not realizing it almost fell out of his mouth in the process) arching his back until it cracked. "The nest was starting to stink of icky things. You need to spend more time in it."

Dib raised an eyebrow. "Really? You want me to spend _more _time in it to make it smell _better? _"

Zim froze. "Er- I mean, bring more things that smell good! Yes, that's what I meant."

Dib wasn't sure if the flush starting to decorate Zim's cheeks was due to the cold or if he was actually embarrassed. "Wanting me close isn't terrible, Zim- it's probably natural to want the other parent nearby this close to birth, for protection or whatever. If irkens reproduced naturally before they had paks, you'd kind of be a sitting duck at this point without yours. And I'm twice your size, so really-"

Zim grabbed Dib's sleeve, popping the lollipop out of his mouth as he glared up at him. "Say that again and look into my eyes."

"I'm just saying- ah!" Dib was cut off when Gir yanked at the leash hard, and Zim let go as Dib was forced to run after him. He had activated his rockets to try and catch a pigeon on the second floor of a nearby house.

"I'm gonna get you…" Gir called, hands shaking as he reached for it.

"Gir, don't eat living things!"

"But they squirm around!"

"That's _why_ you don't!" Dib tugged at the leash just as Gir's tiny hands managed to grab the bird's tail, pulling it down with him as he crashed into Dib's chest.

"I'm gonna call you Wallace," Gir whispered with reverence as the pigeon tried desperately to escape his fabric-y grasp.

"Wallace?" Dib asked.

"Wallace," Gir repeated, opening his mouth and stuffing the bird into it before swallowing. Dib didn't even have time to pull it away, and Gir giggled as it started frantically flapping around, making a rattling noise from inside of his chest cavity.

Dib's eye twitched. "Gir, can you spit that up?" He tugged at the leash, and Gir flopped on the ground.

Zim was leaning heavily on a mailbox, snickering. "Good luck with that, Dib-mate."

"At least he doesn't have an ability to digest- wait, what?" Dib's head spun around to stare at Zim, who was just watching him with one eyebrow raised.

"What?"

"What did you just call me?"

"Dib-meat."

"No, that's not what you said." Dib took a few steps towards Zim, and Gir started gagging loudly as the leash tightened around his neck. He'd be fine, he was a robot who ate trash.

"It wasn't?" Zim just looked kind of confused now, both, eyes squinted.

"You called me Dib-mate."

Zim crossed his arms. "Did not."

"Did too."

"Did not."

"What would be wrong about it if you did? We are together."

"Because-" Zim opened his mouth before freezing, as if there was a loading circle rendering in his brain. "I suppose nothing, but don't look too deeply into it! I'm just tired, that's it!"

Dib dug his knuckles into the top of Zim's head, ruffling the wig enough to shift it slightly. "I think it's sweet."

"Oh?"

"Yeah. Use it whenever you want. Zim-mate doesn't exactly have the same ring to it, though."

"That's because Zim has no need for labels! I already know who I am."

"Really? How about 'mine'?" Dib moved his hand down to Zim's chin, tilting it up slightly, and the flush from before darkened on green cheeks. Definitely not just the cold, then.

"That is- acceptable. But only if I get to use it too!" Zim reached up to grab Dib's collar, dragging him down so their breath-fog mixed. "You're mine too, understand?"

Dib grinned. "Understood. You've got a deal.


	40. I Want Candy

"Be _quiet! _" Zim tugged the hoodie over his stomach. He groaned as his stomach gave another gurgle and shoved his head under the pillow. "I already fed you a plate and a half of nachos, what else do you _want?_"

Dib was out for the night- he had been called in because some old experiment of his had gone rogue and was attempting to assimilate part of the lab, or something like that. It had been urgent enough to make Dib swear for a solid two minutes. Honestly, Zim hadn't really been paying attention, because he'd been trying to add last-minute touches to the Pak for the smeet. Dib had draped the hoodie he'd been wearing all day over Zim's shoulders like a blanket and made him promise that he was just checking things over and not doing any work with the tools. Zim had tugged it on when Dib had left, after insisting he take one of the good laser guns. It smelled like him and calmed the racing in his chest. He'd be back soon. He'd call. Nothing would happen.

He had then rotated the tiny Pak in his palm- it was rudimentary, but it would get the job done. The atmospheric processor was still working, as was the base code to allow it to absorb her personality as it developed.

Right now, that Pak was next to the lab table where he'd be giving birth. (They were going to add blankets, but the idea of mussing the entire nest up with birth goo made Zim shudder.) That was something that they had planned for the fifth of the month, as that was when his Pak had alerted him that the smeet had 'completed its development' and they'd prepared bottles for when she arrived.

That had been two days ago.

Now, he was still starving, still achey, and his skin felt ready to rupture if he moved wrong. His body had been cramping all day, particularly his hips. Oh, and it was past ten at night, and she was _still _settled as firmly in his spooch as the day she'd been conceived. He was starting to wonder if she even knew which way she was supposed to go to _get _out.

Another nudge from the inside had him tugging the thick, warm fabric up. "You get out this way." He tapped his inner thigh, rolling the leg when his hip began to cramp. "Not this way." He drummed his stomach. "Don't you want to meet your wonderful parents?" She didn't reply, but his stomach growled again. "Great, somehow you got Gir's appetite. How is that even _possible? _You're more stubborn than a three-week stain." He rolled over to his back, and his Pak clicked. When he craned his neck, he could see that the lower ports were starting to gently pulse. Huh. That was new. Well, of all the strange things that had happened to it, a bit of glowing wasn't that bad in the grand scheme of things.

He laid in the pile for a few more minutes before she kicked again. His antennae twitched, trying to scent out sugar in the house, but anything around was unpalatable- and Gir had destroyed most of his best stash yesterday.

Zim hissed- with Dib out of the house, it was going to be up to him to get the food she so desperately wanted. He rolled back, then forward, then back again, managing to see-saw his way up to a standing position.

Great, his hips ached even _more _from this angle, but getting up was half the battle. Luckily, Dib had left a twenty-dollar bill inside the pocket of the hoodie- more than enough to find something to sate their behemoth of a smeet. "I'm doing this for you, you know. Be grateful!" Still no reply. He hoped she'd be more chatty once she was out as he pulled on his wig and contacts.

For good measure, he grabbed a hat to shove on top of the wig before sucking in a deep breath. "No sugar craving will make a fool out of Zim!" He threw the door open- only to get a blast full of freezing cold wind in the face.

Zim sputtered before digging a scarf out of the closet, wrapping it three times around his neck and then trudging out into the snow. Luckily, it wasn't snowing, but _unluckily, _he had to walk carefully to avoid ice patches that he couldn't see half the time over his stomach.

Every time he almost slipped, his hips twinged again- if he pulled a muscle, he was dragging his favorite blankets down to the recharge chamber to heal it. He needed to be in top form to give birth, after all.

Few shops were still open this late- he was headed to the one that never closed, something he had taken advantage of several times over the years. (Usually when Gir refused to stop begging for something.) It was called a convenience store for a reason, at least- it was convenient when he needed to get something at hours that were normally strange for humans without anyone asking too many questions. Now, however, even being more than a few steps outside the door was _in-_convenient.

The store windows he passed on the way were dimmed and he could see his reflection, something he hadn't in ages outside of Dib's little logs. Zim turned, one hand settled above the smeet. His middle looked like he'd swallowed a dodgeball- or even bigger, if he was honest. Whoof. He'd be glad to get to carry her in his _arms_ soon. Still… his lips quirked up in a smile as the fabric with the man of moth stretched over the skin. Another cramp jolted him back to his current mission.

The walk was twice as long as normal- trying to avoid ice he could barely see made progress slow, and his back fiercely protested moving as much as he was. Giving up now would be tantamount to admitting failure, though, something Zim wasn't about to do. Especially not with his stomach groaning again.

"What_ is _that?" He set one hand under his belly, bracing it. "Is she just hungry?"

_"The smeet's position fzzt shifted."_

"She moves around all the time. What's different now?"

_"Labor has begun," _the Pak declared, and Zim perked up.

"Oh! So she's finally moving. I'll pop over to the store and be back before anything even happens. Labor takes some time, no?"

His Pak didn't reply to that. "Yes, it does, I have time," Zim said confidently, even as his stomach turned. "Now, what shall we get with these monies Dib has so helpfully left…" He pulled the bill out of the hoodie pocket, curling his fingers around it before pushing open the door to the corner store. The little bell jangled above his head.

The employee at the counter was about Dib's age, with a face full of acne and deep bags under his eyes."Hi, welcome to the- wait, which store is this again?" He looked down at his nametag. "The Little Corner Shop, right. If you have any questions-"

"I require no assistance, station drone!" Zim called out, slowly making his way over to where the food was kept. "Hmm… what do I want…" His eyes scanned the shelves, candies shoved haphazardly into the boxes. "No coconut, no- gah!" His stomach flipped, and he set a hand on top of it, feeling her shift inside. "You have to _work _with me, smeet." He gnawed on his lower lip as he discounted each of the pieces of candy for one reason or another. "Don't like the smell, don't like the peanuts, too gooey…" Zim just kept going past the chocolate to the snacks. "Nacho flavor- no, I had some earlier and she didn't like them enough. Nothing spicy. Why on irk are there _banana _chips?"

The ache in his stomach intensified, and then faded again. Good, she knew to wait. Zim tapped his chin, tugging the hoodie down over his stomach because the bottom was starting to feel a little cold.

"It _is_ chocolate you want, isn't it? You'll want the best of sweets, for the best of-" Something wet began to drip down his leggings and Zim froze. He couldn't see over the smeet, but after setting a glove between his legs and pulling back, it wasn't just sweat- light pink fluid was soaking his thighs. It smelled sort of like an energy drink. "Oh, that is_ disgust- _"

"ZIM!" The tinkly bells were nearly ripped out of the mechanism above the door as Dib threw it open. He was still in the labcoat from work, and there were scratches crossing his cheeks. Zim snarled at the sight of them.

"Who dares hurt-"

"The computer said you were in labor? The GPS is a piece of _shit, _it took me way too long to find- oh, _fuck. _" Dib crouched down, staring between Zim's legs. "Your water broke."

"It's all squishy, I want it- gah!" Pain throbbed through his body, concentrating in his lower abdomen, and Dib scooped him up as he grabbed his stomach. He could feel Dib's freezing hands on his warm thighs and gasped.

"We're going home right now."

"But I want candy!"

Zim could hear Dib's teeth grinding together. "We've got candy at home, come-"

"Gir ate all of it, I want a Twix!" Zim shoved the twenty-dollar bill up at Dib's face, and Dib grabbed one off the shelf, balling up the twenty to chuck it at the cashier before running out of the store. Zim's grip tightened on Dib's shirt, the warm liquid mixed with the cold night running shocks up his shaking legs. He tried to unwrap the chocolate, but his hands were rubber and he nearly dropped it three times before he ripped the plastic off with his teeth and shoved it all into his mouth at once.

Dib's long legs got them back to the base in half the time, and Zim had stuffed the wrapper into his hoodie pocket. The door banged open when Dib kicked at it, getting an annoyed **'Hey!'** from the computer.

"Lab, now!"

**"Geez, I only told you because you called back in a panic. Don't tear my insides up."**

"_I'm _the one whose insides are tearing up!" Zim shrieked at a particularly harsh contraction, the slick between his legs frozen to the skin now and making him _incredibly_ uncomfortable. Dib's panic was overtaking any sense to keep Zim still like he _should _have been doing, and he headed for the table. "Blankets!"

"I'll get them, just give me- ah!" Dib carefully set Zim down on the table, hurrying over to the pile of favorite blankets bundled up in the middle of the lab. He picked them up and dumped them behind Zim, sucking in a deep breath. "Let's do this."

Zim fumbled to pry his wet leggings off, laying back on the blankets as his Pak kept pulsing irritably at him.

This was going to be a long night.


	41. Arrival

"How long has it been?" Dib pulled his finger out of his mouth to realize that his teeth had made indents in the skin.

**"Three minutes since the last time you asked."**

"And is there-"

"Will you _stop _that?" Zim snapped, claws dug into the blankets. He'd stripped off his gloves, but tugged his boots back on after removing his leggings. Dib had no idea why, but that wasn't really important right now. What _was_ important was the fact that his body was ready for birth, but the baby apparently just _wasn't moving. _"You're making me twitchy! I don't want to be twitchy!"

Yes, okay, it had only been half an hour and apparently it took much longer than that most of the time, but Dib's nerves were frayed like a loose cable, and the sweat dripping down Zim's cheeks coupled with the sickly-sweet smell of whatever was in the liquid coming out of him was making Dib's head spin.

Dib turned, boots squeaking on the tile. He was still in his lab coat, (he didn't want to risk something if he went to go change) and he rubbed at the scratches on his face, glad that they'd at least stopped bleeding. Of course, the one night they needed him was the one night he should have been glued to Zim's side. They knew she'd be coming any time, but _no_, the stupid plant zombie virus just _had_ to ripen at the worst possible time. Simmons could deal with the remaining damage, the computer had sent a message to Dib's phone ( **_'Zim's in labor, figured you'd want to know'_ **) and he'd nearly torn up a four-block radius looking for his idiot of a boyfriend who couldn't understand 'stay still' if his life depended on it.

He was here now, and they'd be fine. It was fine.

"Gah! Who put this… this… tightening rack in my gutmeats?" Zim gritted his teeth, and his boots twitched, toes probably curling inside of them.

"She's trying to come out." Dib kept chewing on his finger until he tasted copper. He pulled a pair of medical gloves out his lab coat pocket, snapping them on. Then, he crossed his arms, the coat whipping around as he paced. "Do you have any painkillers?"

"Ah, yes! Second shelf over there." Zim pointed and Dib hurried over, throwing it open to see- a piece of paper.

**_Zim, replace these later. Love, Zim! :p_**

Dib crumpled the paper in his fist, sucking in a deep breath through his teeth. "Okay, so no painkillers."

"Why not?"

"You used them and forgot to restock. Unless you want me to go get-"

"No!" Zim sat up with wide eyes. "Computer, lock the doors!"

They snapped shut, and Dib hopped up on the table next to Zim. "Let's hope I don't have to pee before this is over. I don't think you want to clean up that, it's gross, trust me-"

"I can- nggh- get this over with quickly!" Zim gave a thumbs up before his face twisted. "Oh, she's a strong one…"

"Just take deep breaths," Dib encouraged, reaching for Zim's hand and giving it a squeeze. "You'll be fine. Worst comes to worst, I can cut her out and haul you over to recharge."

"You aren't going to touch me!" Zim's chest heaved up and down. "It only hurts now and then, I'm doing fine!"

"Those are the contractions, I'd imagine. You're pushing on them, right?"

"I need to push? I thought she was crawling out."

Dib used his free hand to slap his forehead. "Isn't your body telling you that? That's how the baby gets out, they crawl _and _you push!"

"Ooooh, I thought it was just regular pain!" Zim brightened, setting a hand on top of his stomach curve to push down before Dib smacked it away.

"From the inside- using your _muscles,_ Zim."

"I knew that!" He stuck his tongue out at him before settling back on the blankets. "This will be over in no time!"

It was _not _over in no time.

In fact, hours and hours later, the only difference was Zim had become drenched in sweat and nearly every bone in Dib's hand had been broken because of how tightly Zim squeezed, on top of the fact that he had dropped his opened travel tissue packet. Zim's stomach had definitely shifted a little, and the computer had confirmed that she had moved and was making her way down, but it was quite possibly the longest hours of Dib's life. Zim's too, considering how the bragging about how well this was going to go had shifted to yelling at her to get _out _of him already. At least Dib had remembered to set up his older video camera that could record for a few hours, but he was pretty sure any footage would be ruined by having to tweak the volume because of all that yelling.

Dib also did, in fact, really have to pee. Whoever talked about the 'magic of birth' could shove it up their ass.

He'd pulled out his phone to use as a timer. "Anything yet?"

"Of course- sssss!" Dib hit the button.

"Okay, three minutes between them now. She's got to be close. Toogle says that the closer they are, the closer the actual birth is." The table was set for Zim's height, so he had to crouch to get a good look. "It definitely looks wider than it did a while ago."

"Can't you just reach in and pull her out?" Zim grunted, claws shredding through the blanket like it was paper.

"I doubt my arm would fit."

"Grab the Pak, this is a big one," Zim said as he gritted his teeth, making the face that Dib was pretty sure meant he was pushing. Dib walked over to the table, lifting up the tiny Pak and examining it.

"What if she's too big for it?"

"It will work until I can make a new one," Zim said, holding out his hand before curling the fingers in a 'gimme' motion.

Dib held it protectively. "I'll hold it."

"Your fat meaty fingers will crush the delicate machinery!"

Dib lifted his free hand, squinting at it. "They're not f-" He shook his head. "Wait, this is stupid. We'll pop it on when-"

"I want to see it _now! _" Zim's claws dug so far into the blankets that they scraped the table, making a sickly SHING noise that drove a shiver up Dib's spine.

"Fine, just be careful with- gah!" Dib stepped on the dropped tissues and slipped, the Pak flying out of his hands. Zim grabbed it, slapping his hand down to keep from dropping it.

There was a crunch, and they both stared at Zim's hand in silence for a moment before Zim started screaming and Dib sprung to his feet.

"WHY DID YOU THROW IT AT ME LIKE A PROJECTILE-"

"I TRIPPED!"

"WHAT IF SHE COMES OUT AND SHE NEEDS IT AND WE DON'T HAVE IT AND EVERYTHING IS AWFUL AND-

"I DON'T-" Dib dug his fingernails into his palm to try and ground himself. "We'll- we'll figure out something. Is it completely crushed?"

Zim lifted his hand, squinting. "The shell is crumpled but it took most of the damage. It's still not going to work!"

Dib crossed the few steps between them, holding out his hands, and Zim reluctantly allowed him to brush the Pak pieces into his palm. Dib held them up in front of his glasses.

"We can- probably fix it if there are any remaining parts from the old attempts." Zim cleared his throat, and Dib's gaze shifted to him. "What?"

"I- may have used some of the parts in the crib."

"Oh. Well, there's a chance she won't need a Pak, right? She's natural-born and all."

"I- gah!" Zim dug into the blankets again, and Dib ran over to set the pieces on the table before returning to his side.

"Is the pain any worse? Are you pushing? Can you feel movement?"

"Just get her _out! _Yes, yes, I can feel it coming, now can you do something useful and _pull? _"

"I'm not _reaching in- _oh, I see something!" Dib crouched down- there was definitely a shape there. "Just keep pushing whenever the next contraction comes."

"This is your big head's fault, Dib-mate!" Zim snapped, and Dib reached into his pocket to pull out a pair of gloves, snapping them on.

"Oh, we're _not _having this conversation right now. And for the record, all babies have big heads, proportionally!" Dib set his hands carefully between Zim's legs. "Ready when you are."

"I've _been- _" Zim slipped into cussing in irken as his entire body shuddered. Dib gnawed on his lower lip as he got the first look at her. She had a few bits of black hair and antennae pressed flat against her head, and was kind of slimy with pink goo, but that was normal for babies, right? Maybe not pink, but goo in general.

It took another twenty minutes to get her all of the way out, by which time Zim had insulted every ancestor Dib had ever had as well as the concept of natural childbirth itself.

By two-thirty in the morning of the eighth, she was wailing with a set of pipes that absolutely cemented her as Zim's daughter, and Dib had never seen anything as incredible in his life. He dried her off with a towel as Zim slumped back in the blankets to get a few minutes of rest, satisfied by the screaming that she was alright. He'd insisted on looking at her first, though, and Dib cleaned her up within Zim's sight.

The first thing was that she was tiny. Were all babies this tiny? Of course, she was smaller than a human baby, but he couldn't imagine how _minuscule_ irken smeets had to be, if she was twice the size of one. Her hair was wispy but definitely black, and the left antenna was shorter than the right. The right one had a different end than Zim's, curving down with the tip sticking back up, but the left simply ended with a pointed-down tip- it must have gotten squashed or something. It twisted Dib's stomach- hopefully, there wouldn't be any problems.

Her skin was tinted a sickly green, more like decomposing flesh than irken or human. Dib swallowed, but her breathing seemed to be even when he placed a hand to her kind of chubby chest, so that was probably just how their skin colors mixed, right? Besides, the lighting in the lab was always weird. Her mouth was gummy with no teeth yet, but her vocal cords were functioning perfectly. He was going to need hearing aids by his twenties, between her and Zim.

She had four fingers and three toes, which he kind of expected, as well as a nose but no ears. That made sense, if she had antennae, but it was still strange to run his fingers along the sides of her head and just feel smooth skin.

Her eyes… they were Zim's through and through, deep ruby with the color filling the sclera. Did irkens even have sclera if they only had one color? Under the lab's lights and mixed with the way everything on her slightly shimmered from the sticky goo she'd been coated in, she was like a section of space stolen into the little room and it took his breath away. The water blurring his vision didn't help as he wiped it away with his sleeve, shifting her to one arm. She was so _small..._

"Let me see her!" Zim's voice was a bit cracked from screaming so much over the past few hours, but not as much as probably could be expected- it _was _Zim, after all. Dib walked over, carefully depositing her in Zim's arms. She had looked tiny when he'd been holding her, but next to Zim, she was huge- it was a wonder Zim had managed to even make it to the store last night, honestly. "Hello there, smeet…" Zim's antennae were low, and his eyes were surprisingly bright for as much pain as he had to be in.

Man, Dib was glad _he _wasn't the one who had to carry a baby twice the size it was supposed to be. He could tell from how Zim held her that he'd already decided it was worth it, running a hand over her head.

"Her antenna…"

"Considering how messy this kind of thing can be, it's a miracle it's all that's wrong." Dib pointed out, leaning on the table as Zim carefully stroked the short one.

"She'll be fine," Zim decided. "One of mine doesn't work sometimes, but I've managed to do perfectly well for myself."

"Yeah… or we can figure out some kind of hearing aid thing if it's a problem." Dib tilted his head. "I had an idea, for a name."

"So did I." Zim scrubbed at his eyes with the heel of his palm.

She began crying again, and Zim stuck a finger in her mouth. She started sucking on it, seemingly content for the moment.

"Okay, what's yours? And if it's some variation on-"

"Twix."

"What?"

"Twix. I want it to be Twix."

"Are you- are you serious?" Dib raised an eyebrow, and Zim growled.

"Yes, I am. She chose it for herself because that was what I wanted so badly, and it's a perfect irken name. What did _you_ want?"

"Nebula. It's her eyes, and- she just looks like it to me." Dib set a hand on her stomach, and she squirmed a bit before grabbing his finger. All of her fingers didn't even fit around one of his. "See? She likes it too!"

"Humans have two names, no?"

"Some of them do, yeah. You want to just take the middle name?"

"I want the first one!" Zim protested.

"The middle one is the one that was used to protect against curses since you could keep it a secret."

Zim considered that for a moment. "But she'd know?"

"Yeah, she'd know. We would too."

"I will take the secret name, then! Nebula is… acceptable, as a first name, for now. But she'll decide which one she likes better!"

Dib smiled as she yawned around Zim's finger before going back to sucking on it. "Hey there, little Nebula Twix. You're going to be great, aren't you?"

She just squeezed at his finger again. He took that as a yes.


	42. New Member of the Family

She was here. She was actually in his arms. Alive and relatively well and staring up at him with eyes that looked just like his and were_ perfect._

Perfect. That was a good word, something he'd made her just through sheer force of will. The antenna was regrettable, but Dib was right, if that was the only problem, she was incredible. Not that she wasn't already.

She was still chewing on his finger. Her mouth was gummy, with no teeth at all. Zim held up her free hand, the other still clinging to Dib's finger, and ran his own finger over the back of it. The skin was so _soft._

"No claws… how will she protect herself?"

"She's a baby, protecting her is _our_ job."

Zim looked up at Dib. "She can't be _completely _useless, can she?" She was the offspring of two of the finest specimens in the universe, how could _that _be?

"For a little while, she will be," Dib said. "Humans are actually programmed to find babies cute to make sure we protect them while they're just useless little meatballs."

"There's nothing _little _about her," Zim scoffed as she kept sucking, waving an arm to smack at Dib who backed away before he could make contact. His hips still ached with the intensity of a thousand suns. Nothing that had felt so huge inside of him could rightfully be considered _small,_ and besides, she filled his arms as he held her. "I demand you take both of us to the recharging chamber."

Dib scooped Zim and Twix up with the blanket pile. "I'll go get the bottle when you start recharging."

That was acceptable. Zim settled against Dib's arm, his Pak comfortable pressed against the blankets with Twix held firmly in his own arms. If he moved the finger inside of her mouth around, he could feel the beginning of an egg tooth beneath her gums. Ah, so she wouldn't be completely defenseless! Why didn't she develop it before birth, though? She must have known she wasn't going to come from an egg. Clever, clever, already she was learning before even being born.

She pulled back just enough to pop Zim's finger out of her mouth and began to wail with a healthy set of- they couldn't be called lungs, but breathing parts, perhaps? Healthy, healthy breathing parts, enough to make Zim's antennae tips curl. He rubbed the saliva-soaked finger on the blanket before running it down the base of her longer antenna. Her cries fell to a confused murmur.

"Wow, that was easier than I was expecting. I think I picked up a pacifier but I'll have to go find it, but until then, I'll have to keep that in mind," Dib said as Zim murmured to her.

"Quiet, quiet, Zim is right here. You're safe, no need to cry." She hiccuped, opening her mouth before Zim used his thumb and index finger to squish her cheeks. "I said, quiet." He ran a finger down her body- it was largely smooth and still slightly sticky, eugh- and patted down at her legs. They were chunky. "You're fat."

"That's healthy."

"Really? It was irritating for me, so heavy in my spooch…"

"Yeah, babies need a lot of energy for growing and fat's just energy to burn."

"Mm." That made sense. A less-fat head would have been ideal for birth but if that was how things were supposed to go, he couldn't really blame her.

"And here we go." Dib carefully set Zim and the smeet and the blankets down in the recharging chamber, and the computer automatically plugged Zim right in. Twix blinked up at the light, waving one fat little baby hand. All her fingers were functioning properly, that was good. "I'll be right back."

Zim was too tired to really argue that he needed Dib here- what if she stopped breathing in the five minutes it took?- but Twix yawned and settled against his side, so focusing on her was easy. Time always ran funny in the recharge chamber, and it felt like mere seconds before Dib returned with a bottle, pressing it to her lips. She started sucking at it right away.

"What's in that one?"

"Just basic formula," Dib said as she chugged. "_Man, _she was thirsty." Her cheeks puffed out as she drank, and Zim smiled before everything started to fade away.

Unfortunately, before he could start to properly recharge, she started flailing around. Zim snapped back awake as Dib pulled the bottle away, lifting her up and away.

"What is it?"

"If you hadn't destroyed the Pak, we could ask!" Zim snapped, tired and sore and feeling decidedly less peaceful than he had ten minutes ago upon first seeing her. Somehow, he knew this was Dib's fault.

"I didn't- maybe she's allergic to something in the formula?" Dib bounced her a little, flipping through a stack of papers with his free hand. "Or she needs to be burped?"

"What's that?" Zim swung his legs off the side of the recharging chamber, feeling the uncomfortable stickiness still present in parts of the blankets. He'd need to scrub them at some point.

"I don't know, Dad just said in the notes that it was something to do with some technical term I don't know!" Dib kept bouncing her and she kept crying until he thumped her back with his knuckles. She burped and her cries fell down to whimpers. "Oh. That's what it means."

"Hand her over."

"Zim, you look like you're going to pass-'

"I _said _hand her over!" Zim snapped, arms outstretched until Dib placed the smeet in them. She was still whimpering, and Zim settled back in the chamber, stroking his thumb down her stomach. "This calms Gir down sometimes, so it will work for her."

"Gir's pretty different from- oh, hey, would you look at that?" Her whimpering started to die down again until her eyes slipped closed.

Zim's ended up going after her, drifting off after a few moments of his head bobbing. He woke up with her still in his arms and Dib awkwardly crammed into the recharging chamber with him. It stunk of sweat and birth goo stuck to the blankets, but for once he didn't want to sterilize the area. It was… nice.

At least until Dib pulled him into a hug and nearly squashed Twix between them and she started crying again.

The next few days had a rough sort of pattern. Dib would wake up with Twix (who he called Nebula, although Zim had to admit the name was growing on him, but she could deal with two names, she would be too smart to get confused) and feed her, then scan the notes for what to do. She was incredibly fussy, which was already growing old. Zim would wing it and do a far superior job, at least until Dib killed the fun by informing him that babies needed sleep and couldn't be prodded at whenever Zim wanted. (Or dropped off the roof. Smeets were more bouncy than human babies, apparently, although to be fair they did have Paks that needed to be trained through exposure to dangerous situations. Zim was still certain that she would have fared better with one, but it was too late for that now.)

He had also been annoyingly frustrated by how slow his body was healing. He expected to be back to normal by now, but no, his hips still ached, and he'd gained just enough weight that his uniform felt tighter. He had to use his mechanical legs twice as much as usual. At least they were working. Or, to be more precise, at least they were listening to him.

It was nice that _something _was.

"You need to eat food, and you need the nutrients from this in particular, so _eat. _" Zim tried to press the bottle to her lips again, but again she turned away, only smearing liquid across her chin and cheeks.

"Ba!"

"No, this is a drink, not- ba isn't even a real word!" Zim narrowed his eyes. "Open."

"Pffffpbth."

"Open your mouth or I will open it for you."

The tip of her tongue poked out between her wet lips, and Zim took it as a chance to push the tip of the bottle into her mouth. She sputtered around it before starting to drink. "That wasn't so hard, was it?"

There was a crash, and Zim turned to see Dib having dropped what had sounded like a heavy bag. "She's drinking, finally!"

"Zim, what is that?"'

"Cream soda. Those formula drinks were terrible and she didn't like them anyway-"

"She can't drink that!"

"She likes it!" Zim countered. Really, as long as it had the needed sugars, it was fine, wasn't it?

"Maybe, but she can't- the carbonation and that much caffeine are probably terrible for her!" Dib pulled the bottle away and she immediately started bawling. "See?"

"I see you took away something she wanted!" Zim held her protectively, patting her back until a few bubbly burps quieted her down. "She always cries longer after that formula, and she was throwing up on you so often I assumed a change of diet was in order, and see? She's fine!"

"We need to stick to-"

"She's half-irken too!" Zim squeezed her to his chest, pushing out a hiccup. Her eyes trailed up, head bobbing a little, too big to hold itself up. He shifted his grip to better support it as she tried to reach for the bottle in Dib's hands. "And irkens live on sugars and fats."

"And humans get sick on anything other than milk," Dib countered.

"She doesn't look sick, does she?"

"She always looks sick!" Dib ran a hand through his hair, before sucking in a deep breath. "Okay, it's not your fault our skin colors mixed the way they did."

"I think she looks fine. Don't you, Twix? Yeah, she does." Zim turned her over, tickling at her nose until she sneezed. "Don't spit your germs at me!" She just blinked up at him, wiggling her limbs like one of those dolls Gir liked the commercials for before making a gummy smile. Her egg tooth was beginning to grow in, and being able to feed her slightly less bottle-y food would definitely be nice.

"Has she gotten sick with you today?" Dib asked, and Zim grimaced.

"Once. I need to put a washing machine in every room at this rate."

"The notes said that's not too weird, but if she got even _half_ of your allergies, we're in trouble. Babies need to eat a lot to grow at a healthy rate. Dad had something like that in the lab, maybe I can-"

"No!" Zim held her protectively. "You aren't experimenting on her!" What did Dib think he was doing, putting her at risk like that?

"No one's going to see it but me, promise!" Dib held up his hands, before a buzzing sound vibrated towards Zim's antennae and Dib pulled his phone out of his pocket. He swiped it up before flipping it around to show Zim a text chat. Most of it was in the other category, of messages that had been sent- he was pretty sure, at least. Usually, he just called Dib, texting was too slow.

_'The botanical problem has been contained! If these are the kind of projects you'd work on in the biological sector, perhaps you're better off with mechanics.'_

_'Simmons told me why you left, is the child born yet?'_

Then there was a reply from Dib._ 'yeah shes fine, zims okay and were just tired talk later'._

_'Wonderful! Do bring her in when you're ready.'_

_'Kendell asked where you were, do you know when you'll be coming back?'_

_'Are you alright?'_

_'I look forward to seeing her!'_

"This is a good excuse to go in, I'll just say I want to check on a couple of allergies. You know Dad, he'll never question anything that she's alien-ish," Dib said, drawing the phone back and starting to type. "I'll tell him I'll come in tomorrow."

"I'm coming too," Zim said instantly. "You aren't taking her anywhere without me."

"Yeah, sure, Dad probably won't mind. Are you sure you're up for the walk, though? Even if we drive there and use the elevator, the lab's pretty big."

Zim scoffed. "I've faced far worse than some lab buildings, Dib."

"Alright, because I'll be carrying her so I won't be able to pick you up if you get tired." He paused. "And I was starting to sway some of the interns to believe in paranormal science-"

"Is that a threat?" How dare he! Zim's disguise had served him well all these years!

"No, I'm just saying it might be a good idea to be careful." Dib tapped the bottle against the space over his heart. Or maybe the lung? Honestly, if they weren't cut open Zim still got the pieces and parts mixed up with just how _many _organs humans had. "I'll show her to my Dad and then we'll be in and out once we make sure we aren't going to be feeding her poison."

Avoiding poison _was _a good idea... "Very well. But I won't let her out of my sight!"

"Fair enough."


	43. Visiting Grandpa

Dib buttoned up Nebula's onesie. It was the third time he'd buttoned it in the last fifteen minutes, but she seemed to want to be naked more than he wanted her to be clothed, and the snaps were unfortunately too easy for her baby hands to manage. Apparently one less finger than usual for infants wasn't much of a hindrance. She didn't mind the sunglasses borrowed from one of Gir's dolls, at least- it was the best disguise of her eyes he could manage that wouldn't hurt her. At least the antennae only needed a hat.

The onesie was also too big for her. He should have realized a hybrid of a human and a smeet that was half the size of a human was going to turn out small- right now he was dealing with it by rubber-banding the extra fabric so she wasn't swimming in it. They'd get her some premie clothes soon, and she'd grow into the normal ones. Hopefully. Man, he hoped she wasn't going to be a baby for like six years, that would _suck._

"Come on, Dad's going to be seeing you soon." She made a noise that sounded kind of like a kitten got rolled up with an alarm clock, kicking out on the blanket. "You don't need to get changed again, do you? That was like… ten minutes ago." She kept kicking, and Dib sighed, pulling out the stuffed bee. Her eyes widened and she immediately made grabby-hands for it, and as soon as he set it down, she wrapped her arms around it. Well, she couldn't unsnap herself if she was holding it, so that was good at least.

"Are we going?" Zim walked in, wig and contacts already on as he stretched, doing lunges in the living room.

"We are now. She kept trying to go commando." Dib did up his own buttons, lab coat thoroughly cleaned of any birth goo and zombie plant remains.

"I thought human babies weren't drafted into the military immediately like smeets are." Zim raised an eyebrow.

"It also means not wanting to wear underwear. Or clothes, in this case." Dib picked her up and set her in the car seat, patting his pockets to be sure the extra bottles were in them. "Dad'll be waiting for us in his lab on the top floor."

Zim was already out the door, climbing into Dib's car. Had he forgotten to lock it, or- oh, Zim had taken the keys. She was perfectly happy with her bee as Dib set the carrier down and buckled it in, and Zim grinned.

"I _told _you she'd like the bee."

"She likes the dragonfly too, I just grabbed the bee first."

"She likes the bee better."

"It's bigger, that's the only reason."

"Bigger is better!" Zim clicked the seatbelt in the front seat as Dib turned the key.

"Good thing I still like some things on the smaller side," Dib playfully ruffled Zim's wig but got a growl in response. He lifted his hands. "Kidding, kidding."

"Just drive, Dib-human. This car stinks of the filth of so many years of you."

"Hey, it's served me well!" Dib protested. "This car has seen me through countless expeditions, and carried multiple containers with ectoplasm! That's what the smell probably is. You'd never think ectoplasm would have a stench, but some of the undead leeches off into their essence."

"Hmmph." Zim settled back, turning to look at the car seat. "You're sure she's secure?"

"Yes, I'm sure. The seatbelt's on." Dib turned the key and the car sputtered to life. "It takes five minutes to get to the lab in the car anyway."

"Maybe I should go check."

"Do you want to sit in the back?" Draping an arm over the center console, Dib turned to look at Zim, who was already unbuckling himself and crawling into the back. "Okay, you do. Just put the seatbelt on back there and we can go."

Zim did, and Dib pulled out, heading down the street. In the backseat, he could hear Zim making the noises that indicated he was pulling faces at Nebula Twix, and her gurgly giggles cemented it. Luckily, Zim's antics kept her distracted all the way there, and six minutes later, he was parked in the lot and straightening his collar. Zim had lifted her out of the car seat, snapping the baby carrier over his chest before setting her in it. She was smiling at nothing now, letting out wet giggles at the side of the car.

"Hey, Dib!" Dib looked up. Who was that? She was in another coat, but- oh, Anne, right. They worked together for like a week once. "Who dragged you into babysitting?"

"This is Nebula. She's my-" The word caught in his throat. "My daughter."

"Didn't you just-" She shook her head. "Congratulations. And that's- Zam, right?"

"Zim!" Zim declared, indignant. Anne laughed.

"Oh, that's on me. Dib never shut up about you. When we were working on the wiring together, it was Zim this and Zim that."

"Anne…" Dib grabbed Zim's wrist to drag him inside, but glancing back he could see the wide grin spreading across pink teeth. Great.

"Talking to your dad? Good luck on catching him!"

"I've got an appointment! Don't you have something to do?"

"Yes sir, Mr. Membrane!" She gave him a mock salute before starting to laugh, turning to lock her car as Dib pulled Zim into the building.

"Never shut up about me, eh?"

Dib could feel the tips of his ears boiling. "Oh, hush. It's not like _you_ don't talk about _me."_

"I don't blame you, I'm sure there's a lot to talk about." Okay, his chest was definitely puffed up a bit, even though it was hard to tell with the baby carrier. Zim was carrying the bee since it didn't fit in with the baby, and Nebula was definitely looking around, eyes wide behind the glasses. She couldn't really move her head yet, but her fingers kept twitching and she was making excited cooing noises.

"Welcome to Membrane Labs," Dib said, mostly for Nebula's benefit since Zim had been there before, even though she was a baby who didn't even know words yet. (She could only learn if she was talked at, right?) Zim lifted one of her arms, making her wave.

"She says hello," he informed Dib as they headed for the elevator. The elevator that was across the lobby, with enough time to turn every head in the place. Yeah, the boss's son bringing a baby to work was _definitely _going to fuel the rumor mills for a while. _Why _did he think this was a better idea than having Dad come home? Oh yeah, he'd never be able to take off work for a visit to actually matter. Joy.

Dib tried to tug down his hair, but it kept bouncing up, and he heard a lab tech snickering. It wasn't like everyone hadn't already seen them anyway- even if he buttoned the coat all the way up, he'd look _more _like Dad, not less. Maybe one day he'd shave his head. Although he _did _like the hair spike because it looked cool, in the lab it just meant even the newbies knew _exactly _who he was.

He slammed his fist into the elevator button once they entered it, and Zim turned to look at him. "You seem stressed. Your father-unit was pleased we were having her, no?"

"I'm not that worried about Dad. It's that humans usually don't have kids at 18 nowadays- especially not the sons of famous scientists."

"Since when does 'usually' apply to you?" Zim bounced her a little. "_Nothing _about you is usual, that's why you're better than the rest of these worms. I care what they think about me only so far as it compromises my security, you shouldn't at all- except for when they attack you, but-"

"-But that hasn't happened in at least six months," Dib finished. "I get the point."

"Besides, isn't she what you wanted?" Zim raised an eyebrow, and Dib tugged at the collar. Was it hot in here, or was it just him?

"Yeah, she's- honestly, I was expecting worse. She's great."

"What's the problem, then? People stare at you all the time."

"It- it just is." Something new, with judgment layered heavy- Zim looking like a kid probably didn't help either. What weirdo dragged a kid into work with a baby?

Zim tried to cross his arms under the carrier, but it was too awkward, so he dropped them. "You're terrible at explaining things."

"I am not! This one's just-" The door opened and Zim breezed past him.

"Good morning!" Zim practically chirped.

Geez, how was the alien better at this than he was?

"Good, you're here! And how's the little one that made me a grandfather?" Goggles practically shone in the light from the lab as he turned to give Zim his attention.

"She's amazing, if messy." Zim beamed. "But I expected no less."

"That's the spirit- strive for perfection!" At that, his lab coat squeaked when he knelt down. "And what is her name?"

"Nebula. Nebula Twix," Dib said, staring straight ahead as his dad brushed his gloves over her head. She wrinkled her nose, sticking her tongue out.

"Nebula?"

"Mhm."

"I can think of worse names. It has a ring to it, there's a Star somewhere in the lab. Perhaps she could be an astronomer!"

Dib let out a breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding. "That would be neat- we can take her to see the stars someday."

"Always with your head in space, son. Hopefully, hers will be looking at the stars themselves, not what might be hiding between them." He stood back up, head tilted down just enough that Dib's fingers curled around the fabric of his lab coat, grasping it tightly. He looked forward to when they were the same height- cloning did have _some _advantages, like knowing he'd still grow a few inches. "Are you taking notes on her development?"

Dib nodded. "A few, but things are kind of hectic right now. Thanks for the folder, by the way- it's been pretty helpful so far."

He nodded. "I knew it would be. You did a home birth, I believe?"

"Mhm. It went well enough."

"Except for Dib breaking the life-support-" Zim grumbled before Dib elbowed him.

"She's fine. She's mostly fine. But Zim's allergic to a lot of stuff, so can I use the machine on the fourth floor to see what she is so I don't feed her poison?"

"Alright, your handprint will unlock it." The professor tapped his chin. "Rather small, isn't she?"

"She is."

"Be sure to feed her well."

"We will, don't worry. She's our responsibility," Dib said, and his father's goggles moved just enough that Dib could tell that he was smiling.

"You're handling this well."

"I'm just trying not to kill her, honestly," Dib admitted, freezing when that got him a slap on the shoulder.

"That's the exact attitude I had with you! Of course, I knew that I would do fine because I _always _do what I put my mind to, but trying not to kill you and your sister was much more difficult than I'd anticipated! I did well enough, though- you're standing here now, are you not?"

"Yeah, I am."

"And so am I!" Zim chipped in.

"Yes, how did you do with birth?" He crouched back down, and Zim just huffed.

"It was _terrible! _But I survived-"

"Clearly."

"-And here she is, and look at her! The spitting image of us!"

"She certainly has our family nose..." He prodded it, and she sneezed in response. "Don't be unsanitary on my gloves, I need these!" He stood up, stripping them off, and Dib heard the hydraulics whirr as he went to replace them.

"We're going to go test the allergies see you later bye!"

"What?" Zim stared up at him. "We were having a conversation!"

"He'll ask about her hair and eyes if we stay, and I need time to think of a better excuse for them or he'll want to do tests."

Zim nodded. "Oh, yes! Yes, we're going now!"

"I'll see you later, then! Best of luck, I'll email you your new assignments soon!"

"Right, right. C'mon, Zim."

"I'm coming, I'm coming." Zim gave a stilted wave before heading towards the elevator. "That went well, before you pulled us away."

"Short and sweet is better with Dad, he gets into lectures if we're in the same room too long." Dib took a deep breath. "You still okay? You haven't walked around a lot the last few days."

"I'm fine," Zim waved his hand. "I've withstood much more than this."

"I'll carry her, at least." Dib held out his arms, but Zim protectively hugged both the carrier and the baby.

"I told you, we're fine."

"I'll have to hold her to let it test her anyway. You let me carry her before."

"But that wasn't here, that was at the base!" Zim argued.

"Zim, I'm not going to let anything happen to her."

"You won't intend to, but then you'll get distracted-"

"Is that a bee in the corner?"

"Where?" Zim's head whipped around, eyes wide, and Dib clicked the carrier open, lifting it over Zim's head and settling it on around his own chest. Zim turned back to him. "Hey!"

"I can't believe you fell for that." Dib grinned as the elevator door opened, and Zim crossed his arms, training his eyes directly on the carrier as it started wiggling and whimpering. "No, nonono don't cry-"

"She likes me better, just let me carry her."

"I just moved her too fast." Dib ran his fingers over her cheeks before feeling in his pockets. Pacifier, pacifier- oh, the bottles! He popped one in her mouth and she started sucking, content. She kicked out a little at his stomach as he turned to grin at Zim. "See? I can handle it."

"You're not completely incompetent," Zim muttered as they turned the corner- luckily, this level had far fewer people, mostly used for storage space and a few machines that still had the bugs to work out. They wove their way through the mess with Dib in the lead to what looked like a popcorn bowl set over a chair.

"Alright, I just need a little blood or saliva sample and it should be good to go."

"And it won't record anything?"

"Anything it analyzes just comes right back out the printer over there. See?" Dib pointed. "It doesn't keep any records for anyone except Gaz and I."

"So I could find a weakness of-?"

"Gaz isn't allergic to anything. I'm not really either. I don't like pollen, I guess, but it's not too- anyway." Dib cleared his throat, setting her down on the chair and taking the half-finished bottle away so she wouldn't drop it on herself. He tried to scan his hand, realized it was the hand that had the pinky fingerprint completely erased during the fairy incident six months back, switched to the other, and _then _it opened to reveal the sample tray.

"You said saliva or blood?"

"Blood works better, but I don't want her crying." Dib lifted her up. "C'mon, spit in the little tray." She looked up at him, and he pulled the sunglasses off. "It's not that hard. Look, do what I do." He stuck his tongue out, and she copied him. He braced her head before turning her over, and a few droplets of baby drool hit the tray. It retracted, beginning to scan as Dib laid her back down on the chair. She wriggled around, reaching her arms up, but when Zim tried to grab her, Dib held him back. "It'll just take a minute."

"She's going to cry! Do you want her to cry?"

"Do you want to do this again?" Dib countered. "We can pick her up as soon as it's done." A green light flashed over the chair and Nebula started to wail. Zim glared at Dib, reaching in to-

"Scan complete!" A calm female voice toned just before Zim's fingers brushed the light, and he snatched her up, dropping the stuffed bee in the process and glaring at Dib.

"Really, that was-"

"Necessary. We won't have to do it again," Dib said, checking the screens- and feeling his stomach twist. "Oh, boy."

"What? What is it?" Zim hurried over, before sucking in a breath through his teeth.

_INSUFFICIENT DATA- SUBJECT IS UNIDENTIFIED SPECIMEN. Remember, the machine is meant for humans, not raccoons, _**_Todd._**

"Great. Trial and error it is," Dib groaned, forehead thunking against the cool metal of the machine.

"She isn't a raccoon, what was that for?" Zim tapped his chin.

"That message means she's alien enough that it can't tell us what she's allergic to," Dib said. "We're just going to have to be careful."

Zim looked down at her. "But she isn't-"

Dib pinched the bridge of his nose. "Her not being human is all that matters."

"So- no allergy list?"

"No allergy list," Dib confirmed. She curled her fingers into a fist, blinking behind the glasses, and he raised the bottle again. Tiny muddy green fingers reached for it, and Zim snatched it, pressing it to her lips again. She started drinking again, her foot pressing against Zim's arm, and Dib sighed, brushing his fingers over her hair. "At least we're doing this together." He knelt down to pick up the bee, squeezing it like a stress ball.

"Yes, there is that," Zim agreed. "Between you and I, she'll be the best blend of humans and irkens there's ever been!"

"She's the _only_ blend of humans and irkens there's ever been." Still, Dib smiled when she pulled away from the bottle. He pulled the sunglasses off, and she blinked up at him before giving a gummy smile back.

They'd make it through this.

Somehow, through everything, they always did.


	44. Epilogue

_**Five Years Later**_

From the outside, it seemed like a relatively normal day in the green and pink house at the end of the street. Voices could be heard through the window, and the neighbors wondered at what was happening in it _this _time before shrugging their shoulders and going back to their own business, the way they'd been doing since that strange building had popped up overnight so many years ago.

Today was Nebula's birthday. Or Twix's, rather- she'd grown a liking for Zim's name, something he lorded over Dib every time she chirped it out when someone asked. Gir had been tasked with putting up streamers, but had merely tangled them around the lamp and couch as if they were police tape and the living room had been declared a crime scene. There were a few balloons, all of them green with smiley faces scrawled on with marker. The tile of the floor had been completely covered up by a mountain of blankets, not unlike the nest that had occupied it years prior, but this time there were four figures, not two or three.

Zim and Gir looked the mostly the same as they had when they'd landed on Earth over a decade ago, although Gir had been dented up and smoothed over so often his metallic body had slight bumps all over it. Gir was paying rapt attention to the TV, while Zim was watching Dib and Twix.

Dib had stubble and his favorite trench coat. He also had his daughter rolling over onto his lap, looking up at him through thick goggles.

"I want to call aunt Gaz."

"We can once the delivery gets here. Otherwise, Gir's going to eat it while we're distracted."

She stuck her tongue out, stuffing her hands in the front pocket of her overalls. "Fine…"

"Besides, don't you want cake?" Zim grinned, and she popped up, antennae leaning forward.

"I can have it before dinner?" Her tone was bright. Dib rolled his eyes, but stood up, moving over to the fridge. She bounced in place. "Can I, can I?"

"Since they're not on time, I don't see why not. Not like Zim doesn't have dessert before dinner half the time anyway or anything." He blew a strand of hair out of his face, vowing to cut it the same way he'd been deciding to for two and a half months. (Hair care was low on the priority list for someone with as busy a schedule as he did, thank you very much.) She hugged the blanket to her chest, a big smile across her face as Dib fumbled with the lock. (After her second and third birthdays, it had become a necessary precaution. Gir didn't understand the importance of birthdays and had destroyed it, and It wasn't a pretty sight for anyone involved.)

"I made one without milk _or_ eggs this time, just to be safe. The grocery store is terrible with accommodations and I haven't done it myself in years, so if it's lopsided, I don't want to hear anything, got it?" Dib set the birthday confection down, and the light thud of the metal tray against the table was all the cue she needed to rush over, pulling herself up to her tiptoes to examine it.

It may have been a _little _lopsided, but a cake was a cake in her opinion, and this was a good one at that. It was frosted in purple with her full name, and decorated with white and yellow sprinkles that indicated stars, not to mention those little hard frosting-thingies that were shaped like flowers. "It's _so_ good…"

It was Dib's turn to grin as he ruffled her hair. "Glad to see I passed inspection. Zim?"

"The taste is what really matters, and _that _remains to be seen." He grabbed a fork and slid it right through the corner, then stuffed the piece in his mouth.

"Hey! Birthday girl gets the first bite!" Dib reached for Zim, who used the Pak's mechanical legs to jump back, just out of Dib's reach.

Zim swallowed. "Hmm… not your best work, but it's better than I expected." It was moist, at least, and Dib's last attempt at vegan anything had nearly destroyed Zim's taste buds, so it was a moderate success. As long as Twix liked it, though...

"Gee, thanks." Dib crossed his arms, not noticing Twix picking up one of the other forks and taking some for herself. "Any other comments before I drag you back down to my level?"

The doorbell rang. "What about 'the pizza's here'?" Zim smirked, and Dib bumped at the metal legs with his hip, sending Zim off-balance as he went to answer it. Gir reached the door first, though, waving a fistful of bills. The girl there looked relieved.

"Oh, thank _goodness._ I heard so many stories about this house-"

Dib cleared his throat. "Ahem."

"Eep!" She shoved the pizza into his chest, snatching the bills from Gir before slamming the door.

"Well, you just gave her a 200% tip, if those were the twenties on the counter," Dib grumbled, and Twix started giggling. At that, Dib turned to see frosting staining her lips. "Hey!"

"Birthday girl gets first bite, right?" She grinned, the frosting painting purple over her teeth.

"And dad goes last, apparently." Dib crossed the living room in a few easy strides, setting the pizza box down. Gir was salivating, and Dib ripped the cheap cardboard top off, chucking it in all its grease-soaked glory at him. He immediately started gnawing on it, allowing the others to grab their own pieces of the plain cheese.

"To five years," Zim said, raising his slice before stripping the cheese off of his piece with his teeth and tossing the bread to Gir, who immediately turned to it from the box, stuffing it in his mouth.

"To five years," Twix and Dib chorused in unison, taking their own bites of the pizza. There were a few minutes of chewing, and Twix used her fork to scoop more cake unto her plate, alternating between cake and pizza. She even added some frosting and a flower to the cheese, something Zim immediately copied. Dib wondered to himself if she was going to keep up these tastes when she got older, Zim thought it was the best thing since lightspeed travel, and _she _just reached for another piece. She even tried to put one of the flowers in the space where a missing tooth had yet to regrow, but kept accidentally biting it in half.

"Phew…" She slumped back in her chair when she'd finished two pieces and several forkfuls of cake.

"No sleeping yet- do you want candy?" Zim marched over to the side table elevator, and she slid off her chair, running over.

"Is that even a _question?"_

"A rhetorical one," Dib replied, walking over with a smile. She was looking up with Zim with wide eyes he could just barely see through the goggles, bouncing on her heels before pulling him into a hug. Her cheek squished against a soft layer of chub that had developed since her birth, one she'd always known him to have. (And one that Zim had complained about when it came to fitting behind the machines in the lab, but Dib and Twix had nuzzled into it enough that he never really tried to lose it.) Gir hopped in after them, licking his chin to taste all the extra grease.

Layers of metal flew past the translucent elevator door, and a grin split her face like a banana through a bowl of ice cream as she saw the whole lab had been bathed in blue light, her favorite color this month. The lab table and IVs from the incident last week (that added celery to the growing list of allergies) had been cleared away, and Mina the robot cat was stretching in the corner, settled on her lavender pillow. Zim crossed the room, bending down to reach behind the main console as Twix and Dib stepped off the elevator to wait. Tiny squeaks of excitement could be heard, and Dib muffled a laugh at just how eager she was.

"Where, now where _is _it- ah!" Zim triumphantly held aloft a piñata, shaped like a- well, it was _probably _a donkey, but _some _sort of four-legged creature with longish ears. "Computer, string this up, the way I told you to."

**"Can I get a-"**

"Please?" Twix looked up, pulling up her goggles so her ruby eyes shimmered, and there was a sigh.

**"That's not going to work on me, kid. I don't have a heart to tug at. But the 'please' is nice." **Rope dropped from the ceiling, and a magnet glued to the back of the piñata stuck to one tied to the end of the rope. Dib grabbed a blindfold, tying it around her eyes and pushing the goggles further up on her head.

"Hey!"

"No cheating," Dib said. "You know the rules."

"Hit it as hard as I can!" She replied with gusto.

Zim cackled. "I can't believe this isn't something on irk- beating things up until candy falls out? It's incredible!"

"Well, clearly they just never understood _true _partying." Dib held Twix's shoulders, turning her around once, twice, three times "Alright, give it your best shot." Dib gave a thumbs up she couldn't see, and she stumbled a few steps before slamming the bat as hard as she could into the nearest object- which ended up being Gir.

He gave a cheer as he soared through the air. "I'm flying!"

"Sorry, Gir!" She called back as he hit the ceiling, before winding the bat up again, tongue sticking out as she aimed in the opposite direction. Zim had to dodge out of the way, but he nudged her the proper direction, and within a minute of merciless beating upon the paper-mache, candy began to rain from the sky. Gir had run back to collect handfuls, and Mina started gnawing on one of the wrappers as Twix pulled the blindfold off and her goggles back on. Zim had settled in Dib's lap, and Twix dropped next to them with her own handfuls, unwrapping a chocolate bar.

"So, one to ten, rate your birthday," Dib said, and she dropped her chin into her hand.

"Hmm…. ten."

"Ten good or ten bad?" Dib raised an eyebrow, and she smiled, taking a bite of the bar.

"Ten good," was mumbled through a mouthful of chocolate as Dib's hip buzzed. He tugged out his phone.

"Didn't you say you wanted to call Gaz?"

"Oh, oh, is that her?" She nearly pushed Zim off Dib's lap, reaching for the phone, and Dib laughed.

"I'm answering it, I'm answering it!" He hit the green 'answer', and Gaz's face filled the screen, looking for Twix and smiling slightly when she saw her.

"Are those two bugging you?"

"No… not any more than usual, anyway," Twix said with a laugh. Zim crossed his arms.

"I refuse to take this slander from my own smeet."

"I love you, don't test me." She pushed at him, and he pushed her back, nearly off of Dib's leg. Gaz cleared her throat.

"Anyway. I've got some old toys I think you'd like, so get Dib to bring you over. And happy birthday, five's a big one."

"It sure is! I'm, uh…" She looked up at Dib. "How old are you again?"

"Twenty-three."

"I'm catching up with you!"

Dib lightly flicked at the tip of her good antenna. "You sure are."

"You have twenty times longer to catch up with _me,_" Zim added.

"So what did they do?" Gaz asked.

"I got a chemistry set, and some gloves for when I dig around outside, and some heat-sensors in my goggles, and a book, and cake and pizza and candy!" She held up some of the candy as proof.

"Sounds cool. I'll see you later."

"Can I see your sketchbook when I come over?" Twix asked.

"How's the new game going, by the way?" Dib asked. "You said they kept stalling development."

"Sure, you can see it." She turned to Dib. "Four rewrites and they keep shifting the tone every time, so my old concepts don't fit. At least I get decent creative freedom." She shrugged. "It's better than the last one that just went under. I really liked the vampire dinosaurs in that one."

"That's good, at least. I'll see you then." Dib nodded as Gaz ended the call and Twix fell back on the floor, cushioned her the thick hair.

"Best birthday ever…"

"Better be careful or Gir's going to eat all of it," Dib said, and she shot back up.

"No!" She started stuffing handfuls of it into her pocket, and Zim followed her lead, holding the bottom hem of his top to use the fabric as a makeshift bowl. Dib popped a jawbreaker in his mouth and settled back on his hands to watch them. He kept watching as they started to chase each other around for the last tootsie roll before she ended up falling asleep on his lap, draped over him like a tiny, adorable blanket.

Zim sat next to them, combing his gloves through his hair and carefully pulling apart the knots in it. "I can't believe how soft you've made me," He muttered, and Dib grinned, gently tweaking the tip of his left antenna.

"You did it to yourself."

"She's good, though."

Dib took a deep breath, letting it out slowly as he felt her even breathing against his leg. "Yeah. She is."

"Besides." Zim hesitated for a moment, uncertain, and Dib waited. "I enjoy this mission more than the last one."

"Why, because being a parent is more rewarding than blowing stuff up?"

"_Nothing_ is more satisfying than blowing things up, don't be ridiculous," Zim scoffed. "But I gave this one to myself, and she's- she's learning from_ us, _not just a simulator. When there's problems, we fix them."

"And hopefully we get better at it when she grows up, the celery thing was a close call…"

"She's strong, she'll be fine." Zim continued to fuss with her hair.

"It's no real loss anyway, celery just tastes like crunchy water. But hey! Parenting's a new kind of adventure, one no irken's done in eons. You're doing pretty good considering that, I'd say." Dib nudged Zim, who leaned against him.

"You're not doing too terrible yourself, human."

"Love you, space boy." It was said with practiced ease now, and Zim's lips quirked up in a smile.

"I love you too."

Twix was asleep, but if she hadn't been, she would have agreed with both of them. As it was, she smiled at an unseen dream and curled closer, content.

* * *

A/N: And... scene. I've already begun to post the sequel on ao3 and will start posting it here soon. Check out the series there for an extra Halloween chapter (check the tags for warnings, it involves gore and some potentially uncomfortable stuff) and a short story about Twix and Zim that was a contest prize. Thanks everybody for reading. :D


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